For Nevermore
by Light In The Void
Summary: Ciel's worst nightmares become reality when investigations into a spate of mysterious new killings lead himself and Sebastian into a twisted web of loss, suffering and betrayal. Can something once lost really never be regained?
1. That Butler, Investigating

Hi everybody~! Glad to see the number of Kuroshitsuji fics steadily rising, because this manga is AWESOME! Not to mention the anime ;) I decided to write this fic in honour of Ciel's birthday on the 14th, though I didn't manage to post it on time -__-;;

Warnings: Uh, it's set after the Indian arc, so it refers to characters/events that have happened before then~

Disclaimer: If I owned it, I wouldn't be writing fanfictions about it; I'd be making the real thing XD Sadly, since I'm not, I obviously don't own it. So please don't sue me. :D

Author Ramblings: I'd just like to say a big THANK YOU to my wonderful wonderful beta Ryouta, who prevents me from making stupid typos and overall encourages me to keep writing~ Thank you~!! :D :D :D

Hope you enjoy the story~ (^o^)

_oOoOoOoOoOo_

**Chapter 1**

**In the Morning: That Butler, Investigating**

_How do you know when your goals have changed?  
What if they have changed without your knowing?  
What do you do when you finally realise this?_

_oOoOoOoOoOo_

Sebastian sighed and flipped the reins slightly, urging the horses to move faster. The carriage trundled down the road, bouncing every now and then as the wheels encountered a bump. The demon was only half paying attention to the real world; the rest of his thoughts were locked instead on the events of that morning.

_In hindsight, he should have realised it had been a dream. It was too much to hope that those three idiots had actually done their jobs _right_ for a change. Though scarce, a demon's dreams reflect their deepest desires: he hadn't realised until now just how fervently he had been wishing that Finnian could look after the garden without killing half of it; that Meilyn could wash the sheets without flooding the laundry and that once, just_ once_, Bard could cook something without burning it to a crisp._

_But it was not to be. In direct mockery of his dream, he had no sooner dispensed the day's tasks to the rest of the household when chaos erupted_. I'm surprised the Young Master still has money left to replace the number of smashed tableware and destroyed kitchen appliances we end up with … That was the fifth oven we've had to replace in the past week!

_His one moment of peace came from his daily visit to the garden where _she_ waited: the most beautiful cat he had ever seen._

"_If only there was some way to take you with me when I return to my world," he had murmured, scratching the cat's ears as she ate. "I would hate to leave such a beautiful creature behind in a place like this."_

_She paused in eating and mewed, rubbing the side of her face against his hand, whiskers tickling his skin. The demon smiled a genuine smile that humans very rarely ever got the chance to see. "Well, I expect I'll be around for a long time to come, so it doesn't matter now. I notice you've gotten bigger lately; I hope I'm not feeding you too much …"_

"_SEBAASTIAAAAAN~~~~~!!" a voice wailed, shattering the peace. With a regretful sigh, the butler gave the cat one last pat._

"_I'll see you tomorrow." With that, he hurried back inside before the chaos could find his place of refuge. No sooner had he come in the door when Finnian had latched onto him, wailing. _Sebastian_ still_ had no idea how the boy had managed to flood the entire lower garden in such a short amount of time.

There were times when he would have cheerfully dispatched them all to the world beyond for their incompetence. However, the only time he had mentioned this to the Young Master, Ciel had forbidden him to do it on the grounds that '_the blood would stain the carpet'_.

Sebastian was still trying to figure out if his master had been serious.

Another sigh escaped him as he glanced behind him, as though he could see the interior of the carriage where his master sat, brooding. Since their argument that morning, the atmosphere was tense and awkward; Ciel had barely said a word since announcing their immediate departure for London, sinking into an ever-darkening mood. As for the butler, he was still trying to figure out a way to get around the order he had been given, silently angry that the order had ever been given in the first place. _Surely he didn't mean it?_ His mouth turned down in a frown.

_He was still in an irritable mood as he knocked on the door to Ciel's study. "Young Master? May I come in?"_

_When no reply came, he pushed the door open cautiously. He could just see the top of Ciel's ash-coloured hair peeking over the top of a stack of papers. Sebastian crept closer, until he could look down on his master from the other side of the desk. "Young Master?"_

"_What?" Ciel snapped, not looking up._

_Obviously, the demon was not the only one in a bad mood. "It is time for your morning tea, but if you would prefer me to come back later …?"_

_The furious scratching of the pen stopped as Ciel finally looked up. "No, it's fine."_

_Red eyes studied Ciel's face as the butler poured a cup of tea. The boy looked tired, but the glint in his uncovered eye and the set of his shoulders told Sebastian that his master was extremely annoyed and attempting to contain it. "I did not think you were this studious, Young Master," he said with a sly grin, indicating the papers around them._

_Ciel 'hmph'ed, taking a sip of tea. "Problems with production have been occurring lately at an annoyingly frequent rate. Work has been piling up."_

"_Problems?" Sebastian repeated questioningly as Ciel shoved a stack of papers aside to make room for the cream dessert. The boy sighed._

"_The most recent case is that some incompetent fool has managed to mislay a significant amount of stock. He's too stupid to have stolen it, so how on earth does anyone manage to_ lose_ something like_ that?_" The question ended in a growl as Ciel's frustration broke out of his hold momentarily. His blue eye closed and he rubbed his temples. "I've managed to sort out most of it, but there are twenty other cases like it. If anything else happens today I'm going to snap."_

"_That is not all, is it?" A gloved hand tilted the boy's chin up as red eyes studied him. "You look tired."_

"_I haven't been sleeping well lately, that's all." Sebastian didn't say anything, but Ciel could tell he was waiting for more information. "… I've been having nightmares."_

"_Ah." A pause. "Would you care to tell me about them?"_

"_It's fine." His blue eye blazed as the demon opened his mouth to speak again; Sebastian found his hand slapped away. "I don't need your pity!"_

_Sebastian blinked, before leaning back and regaining his composure. "Of course, Young Master. Forgive me."_

_There was silence, broken only by the ticking of the clock in the corner of the room._

"_You wouldn't ever leave me, would you, Sebastian?" Ciel's voice was quiet, almost … vulnerable. Surprise flared in crimson eyes, but it appeared Ciel already regretted his words. "…Never mind."_

_A faint smile curved Sebastian's lips as he bowed. "As I have said, I will follow you wherever you go; stay by your side even to the depths of hell if that's what it takes. Never fear."_

_Ciel nodded, watching as the tall form straightened. "If that is all, I had best go and make sure that nothing is in imminent danger of destruction …" He bowed to Ciel again and turned to go, before stopping. "Ah, how careless of me. This was delivered not long ago."_

_The teenager's mouth twisted down at the sight of the letter bearing the royal seal. "At a time like this …" He took the letter from Sebastian and broke the seal. "I don't need more work," the boy muttered, his brows lowering as his good eye ran over the contents._

_Something brushed against Sebastian's leg; startled, he glanced down to see the black cat winding around his feet, purring. "How did you manage to get in?" the butler murmured, bending down to pick the cat up. It purred again, settling comfortably in his arms as he stroked the dark fur. _She's gotten heavier too, not just fatter_, he thought absently, eyes half-closed._

"– _carriage ready – Are you listening to me? Sebastian!" the young earl asked angrily, breaking into the demon's thoughts._

"_Sorry, I was –" _

"_How did that thing get in here, anyway? You know I'm –" Ciel sneezed, "– allergic to them."_

"_I haven't a clue. Perhaps she followed me." Sebastian took a step back; not wanting to release the cat but keeping it away from his master._

"_Hmph." Ciel cursed quietly as his hand knocked against a teetering pile of documents while reaching for the plate of food. It started to tip sideways, sliding towards the ground like an avalanche. Ciel lunged for it, grabbing onto the stack just before it could slide off the desk completely._

_With both other creatures in the room occupied, the cat saw her chance to get at the pavlova she had been eyeing. In the blink of an eye, she had jumped from Sebastian's arms onto the desk, intending to grab a bite and run. Her plan probably would have worked, had she not landed on a stack of precariously piled documents. The paper started to slide beneath her paws, startling the cat into releasing her claws to steady herself. When that didn't work, she leapt for safety on another pile of paper, her momentum sending the previous pile flying._

"_Argh!" Ciel tried to grab the cat before it could do anything else. "Sebastian, the papers!"_

_Sebastian managed to save one pile, though other stacks were flying everywhere as the cat tried to avoid Ciel. China smashed; shredded pieces of paper fluttered like snow around the room. With a cry, the cat dodged under Ciel's hand and ran up the demon's arm as he steadied the rest of the documents, latching onto his shoulder and back, peering over Sebastian's shoulder at Ciel with innocent green eyes._

_The butler surveyed the damage. Papers lay scattered across the desk and floor, torn and tea stained by the liquid running across the desk from the broken cup. The big chair Ciel liked to sit in had overturned when he first dived at the cat; it lay forlornly on its side behind its owner who stood in the middle of the mess, fists clenched._

"_Young Master …?" Sebastian asked cautiously. "Are you alright?"_

"… _Get. Rid. Of. It," was the growled reply._

"_But –"_

"_But nothing! That cat has just managed to destroy every single piece of work I did today. Get rid of it! Permanently! Now!"_

_The cat cowered behind Sebastian, long fur tickling his neck. "Very well, I'll take it back outside –"_

"_I _don't want to ever see it again_,_" _Ciel growled through clenched teeth. "Not in the house, not in the gardens, nowhere!"_

"_Surely you are over-reacting, Young Master –"_

"_Sebastian. I am allergic to cats, but I overlooked the presence of this one since it never bothered me. But now it has found a way in, it will probably keep coming back into the house."_

"_And the reason is …?"_

"_Because you look after it, and besides, it's probably easier for it to look after its kittens inside in the coming winter." Ciel looked around at the mess, at a complete loss as to where to begin salvaging. _

"…_Kittens?"_

_Ciel turned back to see Sebastian frowning in confusion. _He doesn't realise?_ "Sebastian, your friend there is pregnant – that's why it's so fat." He groaned inwardly as a pleased light lit the demon's eyes. "I don't want more of them around!"_

_Sebastian frowned at his master. "Whatever she did, how could you throw an expectant mother out of her home? The Young Master should have better manners than that."_

"_It's a cat, for God's sake! I can and I will if I want to!" Ciel watched his butler's frown deepen and pushed his eye patch aside. "_This is an order! GET RID OF THE DAMN CAT!_"_

"_But –"_

"_Are you trying to break our contract? That was an order!" The contact mark glowed brilliantly against the purplish eye, the same rage and demand for instant obedience flickering across Ciel's blue eye. Master and servant faced each other defiantly, mixed-colour gazed meeting flat red._

_At last the demon bowed, mouth set in disapproval. "Forgive me. I had no such intentions. I shall carry out your order and return to clean up this mess."_

"_There's no need. I'll see what I can fix; _you_, on the other hand ..." Ciel examined his desk before picking up an envelope that had somehow survived the chaos. "We're going to London. Make the necessary arrangements."_

"_Very well." Sebastian bowed and left, leaving Ciel standing amongst the wreckage of what _had_ been an entire day's work._

Sebastian shook his head, the rhythmic clip-clop of hooves bringing him back to reality. _It's pointless to think he'll change his mind; he's too stubborn to ever take back an order. Luckily he didn't order it immediately done … There's time to find a loophole._ Normally he would have done as ordered and no further, but he refused to lose his one point of sanity in the madhouse of the Phantomhive manor.

Red eyes studied the sky above. _At least it isn't raining yet._ _Hopefully we can rest quietly at the townhouse. Overworking is probably the main reason for the Young Master's mood. _Sebastian frowned, thinking._ I'm intrigued about these nightmares, though. They may just be related to the death of his aunt, or they may be something else entirely._

_The day couldn't possible get worse, in any case._

_oOoOoOoOoOo_

He had forgotten the presence of _those two._

It was almost dinnertime by the time they finally arrived at the Phantomhive's London townhouse. Ciel still had yet to say anything to the demon, following him wordlessly to the door and merely 'hn'ed in response when Sebastian said "You'll be able to rest quietly; I'll have dinner ready soon."

Wondering how long his master was going to remain in his bad mood, Sebastian opened the door for Ciel, taking both hat and coat as the boy strode into the room, only to stop abruptly.

"Sebastian …" Ciel said slowly. "Why are all the lights on? No-one is supposed to –"

"_CIEL~~~~!!"_

Sebastian watched in bemusement as a tall form jumped down the stairs and latched onto Ciel in a hug, almost toppling the boy over. _So much for peace and quiet …_

Another head popped over the stair railing, peering down at them. "Master Ciel! You're here!" Agni's beaming face showed his brainless enthusiasm as he waved down at them all. _Ah … that makes the other one Prince Sohma._

"Sohma! Get off me!" Ciel ordered, trying to shove the Indian teen away. "Why are you even here?!"

Prince Sohma, 26th in line for the Bengalian throne, finally stopped suffocating Ciel and let go, hands on hips. "Why are we here? You gave us the important task of looking after your townhouse here in London! Don't tell me you forgot?"

By the grimace of Ciel's face, Sebastian could tell the boy _had_ forgotten. "That's right, I did, didn't I?" he muttered, rubbing his temple with one hand and a _'what on earth possessed me to do that?'_ expression on his face. "You seem to be doing a good job." Sebastian supposed his master was right. There _was_ a reassuring lack of broken objects about.

"Agni! Make dinner! I'll show Ciel around the house!" Sohma declared, barely waiting for Angi's "Understood!" before grabbing Ciel's arm and dragging him off, the ash-haired boy grumbling.

"_I don't need to be shown around my own house!_"

As the noise faded into the distance, Agni came down the stairs. "Welcome back, Mr Sebastian! I was looking forward to seeing you and Master Ciel again; Prince Sohma certainly was."

"Yes, I guessed as much," Sebastian replied, eyeing the direction his master had been taken.

"If you'd like, I'll take care of the dinner preparations. You seem tired," Agni offered, face concerned. Sebastian was thrown off guard for a moment. Him? Tired? It was perhaps also the first time he'd had concern directed towards him.

It took him a moment to recover. "I'm fine. I don't mind helping with dinner, but I should bring in the luggage we brought with us first."

"What about Master Ciel?"

Sebastian again glanced up the stairs. _The only person who could aggravate the Young Master more in this mood than Prince Sohma would be Lady Elizabeth._ _I could go and bail him out … but I don't want to._ He smiled at his fellow butler. "I'm sure Prince Sohma will enjoy talking to the Young Master after such a long time."

Agni nodded. "Master Ciel also seems tired. Is everything alright?"

"Slightly overworked is all. No doubt the Young Master came here for a change of pace."

The Indian man seemed to buy this and asked no more questions, instead heading off to the kitchens and leaving Sebastian standing in the entrance hall. He looked around and sighed before heading outside. The rain that had been threatening to fall before began to drizzle, dampening his coat and making his hair stick to his face. _Why are we in London?_ he wondered, red eyes staring at the carriage without seeing it. _Normally I at least have some idea, especially if we're here on a request from the Queen. Does the Young Master not trust me?_ It was hard to tell to what extent the boy actually did trust him: on one hand, Sebastian was a demon with no sense of loyalty; on the other, he was bound to the boy by their contract.

_Do I really seem visibly tired?_ He thought, tipping his head back to let the rain fall on his face. He didn't particularly like rain, just like a cat, but he had the foolish notion that perhaps it would wash away his fatigue and resentment. _A thought worthy of a foolish human._ Red eyes opened, gleaming slightly.

"Huh. It appears the rain is getting heavier."

_oOoOoOoOoOo_

He refrained from questioning Ciel while the boy ate and bathed. When Ciel finally retired to his room, he flopped onto the bed, staring at the ceiling.

"…Next time I give them a job to do, make sure that it is far, far away from me," Sebastian heard him mumble as the butler entered the room. The demon smiled.

"Is that an order?"

"Yes. No." Ciel sighed and propped his head up to look at his butler standing by the door. "Never mind."

"Is your headache still troubling you? I can get some warm milk fo –"

"I'm fine. I think perhaps that I shall have an early night, though." Ciel slid off the bed and held out his arms. Sebastian obeyed the silent instruction, unbuttoning the evening shirt Ciel wore with deft fingers. His master remained quiet until the demon began to button up his nightshirt. "Is there something you wanted to ask me?"

Sebastian paused, looking up to meet Ciel's visible eye. "Why do you think that?"

"You've been preoccupied all evening. Stop dodging the question," Ciel demanded.

The butler finished with the buttons and helped Ciel out of his trousers. "What precisely is going on? If it requires my assistance, surely I would be of more use with that knowledge?"

Small fingers curled around Sebastian's chin, tilting it so that he met the ash-haired boy's gaze once again. Cold blue pierced emotionless red as Ciel stared down at him. "Do you think you have a right to know? A pawn goes where it is moved." A small, cruel smile twisted the edge of his mouth.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow and smiled a smile that Ciel had once described as 'false'. He reached behind Ciel's head to untie the boy's eye patch as he spoke. "Ah, but a dog usually has some idea of what it hunts." The eye patch came off; the contract in Ciel's lavender eye bright in the surrounding gloom. His mark upon the boy. As much as Sebastian was Ciel's property, Ciel was marked as his. The demon's smile grew wider. "Is that not so, Young Master?"

The Phantomhive boy was the first to break eye contact. There was … something ... disturbing about that red gaze, an unsettling scarlet gleam that always reminded Ciel that what he dealt with was _not_ human. Sometimes he thought Sebastian realised this and took pleasure in it - a twisted game between master and servant trying to unsettle one another.

Instead of answering, Ciel turned away, fringe covering his right eye as he left Sebastian kneeling on the ground. The butler was surprised when the boy turned back and threw something at him. Sebastian caught it by reflex with a gloved hand and looked at it in confusion. It was a copy of the day's newspaper which Sebastian had not read due to the delivery boy's lateness. Ciel had presumably read it on the way to London.

"Read it."

Raising an eyebrow at his master – _would it be so much trouble just to tell me yourself?_ – Sebastian unfolded the newspaper and glanced at the headline. "Another spate of murders?"

Ciel nodded. "Different to the Jack the Ripper cases, though."

"Different?" There was something in the way the Young Master had said that. Red eyes quickly scanned the page, taking in the information. "This is …"

"So far, the victim found dead in London's streets. Unharmed except for the fact the body had been completely drained of blood." Ciel forced down a shudder. "It's not another one of _those_, is it?"

Images of an annoying red-haired Death God flashed through Sebastian's mind and he grimaced. "I doubt it. It's not really their style."

"I suppose we'll have to go and see _that_ guy tomorrow …" A sigh escaped Ciel's mouth as he crawled into bed. "Get me a book to read."

"Weren't you going to go to bed early tonight? You've been looking tired lately, even Agni noticed. Unless, of course, you're sick …?" Sebastian mused, holding a hand to Ciel's forehead. Ciel flinched and pushed his hand away roughly. "Young Master?"

"It reminds me – never mind. I just … don't feel like going to sleep." A scowl crossed the delicate features and he crossed his arms.

"Ah. The nightmares?" Ciel looked away as Sebastian smiled. Fingers touched the eyelid hiding the boy's right eye. "If you so wish, Young Master, when nightmares walk in your dreams I can help."

"You _are_ a nightmare," Ciel muttered. "I don't need your help for such things."

"Very well." Sebastian straightened. "Good night, Young Master."

The butler was almost at the door with the candelabra when a voice commanded "Wait!"

Sebastian turned around; Ciel could have sworn he saw the red eyes gleam. "Would you prefer me to stay?"

_What am I doing? _Ciel thought angrily. _Why did I call him back? I did not lie; he is one of my nightmares – that he will turn on me or leave and never come back. I don't trust him. I can't trust him, no matter what contract we have between us._ "No!"

"Very well. But, Young Master, sulking is a trait unbecoming of the head of the Phantomhive family." Shadows danced as the edge of the demon's mouth curled upwards.

"I'm not sulking!" Ciel snapped.

"As you say," Sebastian replied smoothly, bowing. "May you sleep well, Young Master." He slipped out the door quietly, the gentle click of the latch drowning out Ciel's wordless snarl.

_oOoOoOoOoOo_

It was mid-morning by the time they found themselves outside their intended destination. Ciel had managed to dissuade Sohma from following them ("Sorry. Phantomhive business only") before they headed off to the latest crime scene to see what information Scotland Yard had on the murders ("I think the newspapers told us more") much to Lord Randall's dismay.

The atmosphere between master and servant was still strained, although both spoke the way they normally did. Sebastian supposed he shouldn't have needled the young Earl so much the previous night; but then, it was a form of stress relief for him as well. No guilt weighed on the demon's conscience, if anyone even believed he _had_ a conscience.

Ciel was annoyed at Sebastian, yes, but what occupied his thoughts the most was the nightmare that had awakened him last night. _Trapped. Helpless. Lost._ His right eye twinged with pain and he put a hand to the eye patch. The movement attracted Sebastian's attention, but the demon made no comment.

"Let's get this over as fast as possible," the Earl sighed eventually, signalling Sebastian to open the door. It creaked open eerily – _of course, why wouldn't it?_ – to reveal a darkened room filled with coffins. Ciel strode straight into the room and looked around for the person who worked there.

"I thought I might be seeing you sooner or later," a voice called from the back. "Welcome, Earl."

As both newcomer's eyes adjusted to the gloom (Ciel had reason yet again to wonder whether Sebastian could see perfectly anyway), the individual known simply by the title of his job, 'Undertaker', became visible. The politest way that Ciel could think of to describe him was 'unique', although eccentric, strange and creepy also worked perfectly, when said undertaker dressed all in black and was currently building a pyramid out of skulls.

Setting down the polished skull he held, the Undertaker glided towards Ciel, invading the younger boy's personal space. Ciel resisted the urge to step back as the Undertaker leaned forward, grinning. "I suppose you came here to ask me about my guests?"

Ciel's eyebrow twitched; he really didn't like people getting that close. "Yes. What can you tell me about –" A long nailed hand was held up to silence him, a sly smile crossing the silver-haired man's face.

"Now, now, Earl, it's not that easy. You know the price~" The Undertaker drew back, chuckling quietly, fingers steepled together. "Give me the chance for a first rate laugh."

Ciel 'tch'ed and glanced at the black-haired form beside him. "You do it, Sebastian."

The demon blinked back at him for a moment. "Very well," he replied, straightening his gloves and sighing inwardly. _I would really prefer not to do this …_

"Ah, making your butler do everything again?" You really are but a helpless child, aren't you, Earl? Well~ Here's my other condition: _you_ have to make me laugh, not your tall friend." His smile grew. "Can you do it?"

Ciel's hand tightened n his walking stick. _What does he think he's playing at? I am _not _just a helpless child!_ His scowl deepened, the blue darkening to a midnight sky as he caught sight of the slight smile on Sebastian's face. It was gone in a flash, the poker face back in place even as Ciel's eyes met the red gaze, but it released a flood of irritation that threatened to sweep him away.

"So, how about it, Earl? Can you make me laugh?" If his eyes had been visible, a mischievous glint would have been visible in them. As it was, the teasing tone only served to further aggravate Ciel.

"I haven't got time for your childish games today!" the boy snapped, slamming his hands down on the counter and making a skull roll off the pile. "I want to finish this case as soon as possible, so just tell me the information I want to know! As for your other claim, I am hardly a helpless child. If I wish Sebastian to deal with it, it is because he is my property and will do as I order!" Ciel's voice had reached a shout by the time he finished and his face flushed bright red with exertion. _I'll be damned if I play his game!_

The Undertaker regarded him in silence for a moment. Even Sebastian looked taken aback by the uncharacteristic tirade; Ciel was slighting ashamed that he had lost his composure like that.

Abruptly, a giggle met his ears. As the boy turned back in astonishment, the giggle grew into a raucous laugh, the force of it making the Undertaker's shoulders quake. Both Ciel and Sebastian looked at him with the same expression – _has he gone insane?_ – as the laughter died down and the Undertaker used his long sleeves to dry tears of mirth.

"Ah, that felt good .." he mumbled to himself. "The Earl is cute when he gets extremely mad. You may ask me what you wish to know."

Sebastian hid another smile as Ciel edged away slightly, a muscle in his cheek twitching. _He didn't … just say … what I think he said … did he?_ Ciel grimaced. His butler took pity on him and spoke. "We've come about the recent murders in London, to see if there's anything else you can tell us about the victims."

"Ah, yes." The Undertaker bent down and retrieved the skull that Ciel had knocked over. "It was easier to make these guests pretty than the last time."

_He means the victims of Jack the Ripper_, Ciel realised. "Why is that?"

"Why, because they were still whole, of course." The Undertaker held the skull up to eye level as though he were conversing with it. "No external injuries, no outward sign of any kind of struggle … in fact, there's almost nothing wrong with the bodies at all, except –"

"– except they no longer have a drop of blood in them," Ciel finished.

"No signs of a struggle means that the killer was fast, fast enough to strike before his victims even noticed him …" Sebastian mused. "Also, that the cause of death was the loss of blood rather than a wound or direct kill. Which contradicts itself; because surely the victim would have noticed the killer in the time it took for their blood to drain completely."

"But how could they loose all of that blood with no wounds?" Ciel asked, brow furrowed. "That is what concerns me … You said before that there was 'almost nothing' wrong with the bodies – what did you mean?"

"That is a very good question." The skull was set back down upon the top of the pyramid of bones as the Undertaker moved up behind Ciel. "I noticed that all of my guests shared another thing in common. Puncture marks right _here_." Two long black fingernails dimpled the flesh on Ciel's neck, making him shiver slightly.

"Puncture marks? Like a needle?" Sebastian asked.

The Undertaker spread his arms. "Who can say?"

As they left, Ciel glanced back at the counter to where the bone pyramid still stood. It seemed as though the skull at the top was grinning at him. He shivered again and turned away.

"Puncture marks …" Ciel murmured as they headed back to the townhouse. "Do you think it could just be an animal?"

Sebastian appeared to think this over. "The fact that nearly all the victims were found with their belongings intact would support that theory, but no animal is precise enough to drain a body of blood with such minimal damage."

"So it is a murderer then … one with no interest in their victims' belongings. Furthermore, the attacks seem entirely random … they don't seem to have any connections whatsoever!" Ciel glanced at his butler. "See if you can find any patterns in the deaths."

"Understood."

They walked on in silence for a while. Then –

"Is it even possible to completely drain a body of blood?"

An amused smile stretched the demon's mouth. "I have never tried, so I would not know." Ciel looked at him sharply as Sebastian continued. "However, it must be at least possible for it to happen to seven people so far."

"If it's not a Reaper, could it be another demon?" Ciel asked, not looking at Sebastian. "Tell the truth."

"Unlike humans, I do not lie, you know this, Young Master," was the reply. "As to your question … I cannot rule it out, but I doubt it. Demons are more interested in a human's soul rather than mundane things like blood." Ciel's hand strayed to the eye patch that covered the mark binding them together. He had placed his soul in pawn for Sebastian's power; he would deal with the consequences. When they came.

Their conversation was interrupted by their arrival at the townhouse. Ciel managed to dodge Sohma's greetings, announcing he was tired and that he would retire to his room until lunch, giving strict orders that he was not to be disturbed before then.

Sebastian followed him upstairs as Sohma sighed dejectedly. "Agni~!" the butler heard the Indian cry. "Let's watch TV, then!" Shaking his head, he opened the bedroom door for Ciel.

"I must say, Young Master, that was quite a rare display of anger earlier," he said as the boy strode past him into the room. Sebastian thought he saw his master's shoulders stiffen.

"He was getting on my nerves."

"My, my, your nerves seem rather fragile of late. Are you sure –?"

"Shut up." The snapped order seemed to echo in the silence that followed. Amusement was hidden behind a smooth face as blood red eyes watched the boy turn back towards the bed … and froze.

"Young Master? What's wrong?" Sebastian asked, concerned.

"Sebastian … Neither of those two mentioned any mail deliveries, did they?" Ciel's voice was odd.

"No, it's the wrong time of day for deliveries," the butler replied automatically, crossing the room to his master's side. He saw what had caught his master's attention: an envelope sat in the middle of the bed, ornate lettering addressing the contents to the 'Earl of Phantomhive'. Sebastian frowned, eyes raking the room for any other signs of disturbance. However, the windows remained locked shut; everything was where it had been left.

Frowning, Ciel plucked up the envelope and opened it, noting the plain wax seal. The note inside was brief, the writing less fancy. The blue eye scanned it quickly, before holding it out for Sebastian to examine.

'_Earl Phantomhive,_

_It has come to my attention that you seek information on the recent  
London murders. If Fate would be so willing, I believe I have additional  
information for you._

_You will find me in the building located at 32 Doncaster Lane,  
at precisely 2pm tomorrow. Come alone. I shall await your arrival.'_

There was no signature at the bottom of the note. "Well?" demanded the boy expectantly as Sebastian looked up.

"It's possible that this person is perhaps an eyewitness, and does have information for us," the demon answered thoughtfully. "Fear that the killer would find out about them may have lead them to sneak in and leave an anonymous note …"

"But?" prompted Ciel, hearing the hesitation. "It is rather suspicious. Why do they not go to Scotland Yard? How do they know that I am investigating? It is most likely a trap." He took the letter back from Sebastian. "Still, I feel as though I should go, on the off chance they really can offer any information."

"It would be troublesome if they refused to show themselves because you came with company," the butler mused.

"Oh, it should be fine if it's only you. Even they would be suspicious if I really did come by myself, being a noble. You can wait nearby while I approach them. Understood?"

"Yes, my Lord." Sebastian bowed.

"Still, waiting uselessly until this meeting seems pointless. We'll continue to investigate until then. Are there any possible suspects?"

"Only if you intend to count every possible person in London who can hold a needle or has access to drugs that incapacitate a person," the butler replied, a trace of irony in his voice. "Even for me, that is a great deal of work." Ciel sighed and rubbed his temples.

"Let's focus on those with medical knowledge for the moment. But firstly, I need a cup of tea."

_oOoOoOoOoOo_

END CHAPTER 1

_oOoOoOoOoOo_


	2. That Butler, Betrayal

Greetings once again~ Hope everybody had a good Christmas ^^ Or for those of you who don't celebrate it, I hope you had a good day :D It's almost the New Year! That's kinda scary O.o

Warnings: Uh, it's set after the Indian arc, so it refers to characters/events that have happened before then~ Um ... I suppose I should say 'violence' as well here ^^;; I put the rating up just to be safe ... Although I really don't get the rating system on this site sometimes, so I never know what to pick :sigh:

Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own it ...

Author Ramblings: To the people who reviewed, thank you so much for your kind comments! ^^ Thank you also to the people who favourited/alerted this story~! And once again, thank you to Ryouta, my awesome beta xD

Hope you enjoy the story~ (^o^) Thank you for reading~

_**oOoOoOoOoOo**_

**Chapter 2**

**At Noon: That Butler, Betrayal**

The hours until the meeting passed by slowly. Ciel sent Sebastian out to investigate the list they'd come up with the night before while he condemned himself to playing chess with Sohma and teaching him the rules. The vindictive pleasure of beating the teen wore off after the fifth game and was replaced by impatience. Two o'clock was drawing closer and still there was no sign of Sebastian. _He'd better not be late_.

Right on cue, the door opened to admit the black-clad butler. "Forgive me; it took me longer than I had first anticipated."

Ciel stood up. "Never mind. Let's go."

"Huh? Are you going somewhere?" Sohma asked, looking up from the board he had been staring at in fixed concentration for the past ten minutes. Ciel, who had been wondering if the prince could sleep with his eyes open and if so, whether he could chance sneaking away, felt the urge to hit his head against something. Or better still, hit some_one_ over the head.

"Yes," he replied shortly, turning away.

"Where are you going? Can I come too?" _Must. Resist. Urge. To. Hit._ "You promised you'd show us around London, anyway."

"Now would be a bad time for that, since it looks as though it will rain soon," Sebastian pointed out, making Ciel sigh with relief. Sohma pouted for a second.

"Well, if it's going to rain, maybe it's better if you stay here," Sohma replied. He grinned. "If you catch a cold from the rain, you won't grow any taller, Little Ciel~" Ciel's hand twitched. "Besides, aren't we in the middle of a game?"

Sebastian was sure that, had his master's walking stick been in the boy's possession and not his own, Prince Sohma would probably be sporting a cane-shaped mark across his face. As it was, he had to smoother a chuckle as he watched his master grow more and more irritated.

Ciel drew a deep breath. "Agni, you can take my place against Sohma." He turned to Sohma, ignoring Agni's startled protests. "If you wish to play me in chess again, you must first prove your skills by beating Agni, understand?"

Without waiting for a reply, he swept out of the room, followed closely by Sebastian. As the door closed behind them, Sebastian murmured, "A devious plan. But does Agni even know how to play chess?"

The boy sniffed. "With the advantage I left him in, there's no way that he could lose that game. Besides, I'm sure that he's a better player than Sohma." A pause. "_Anyone_ would be better at chess than Sohma." He accepted his coat and hat, waiting impatiently for Sebastian to button it up. "Any results?"

"Unfortunately, no. Everyone has an alibi for the times of the last few murders, which I checked. As for the victims, I haven't uncovered any singular connection between them. It really does seem like entirely random attacks."

As they walked, Ciel frowned. "I don't know which is worse: one who murders with a motive or one that just indiscriminately lashes out at those around them."

"Surely the indiscriminate killer is far more dangerous, for he doesn't care who gets in his way."

"In other words, a psychopath."

The dark clouds above finally dropped their heavy burden on the city below. Sebastian had the black umbrella up before a raindrop even had time to land on Ciel. Fortunately, they weren't far from Doncaster Lane. As they turned the corner onto the correct road, Sebastian frowned, claret eyes alert. "Young Master … I do not like this. The street is abandoned."

"If you hadn't noticed, it _is_ raining at the moment," Ciel pointed out. "It's fine." He began searching the buildings to find number 32, missing the flicker of apprehension on his butler's face. Still, faithful to his role as butler, the demon followed Ciel until his master stopped in front of a row of dusty stone stairs.

Sebastian looked up at the building, noting the general state of neglect it was in. Missing stones left gaps in the wall, exploited by vines that crept upwards, clinging to the walls as though the stone were their last hope in that desperate grab for sunlight. Coloured windows lay smashed, decorating the ground like confetti, the last few shards still in the frame glittering mournfully in the rain. It wasn't until he noticed the cross on the uppermost peak that Sebastian realised what the building had been. "A church."

"It looks as though it were abandoned long before I was born," Ciel commented. He eyed Sebastian. "You can enter it, I assume?"

A raised eyebrow accompanied the dry tone. "Places of God have no hold over me, Young Master. It is your safety I am more concerned with."

"If it's stood this long, I'm sure it will stand for a few more hours," Ciel replied. "Besides, anything to get out of the rain." He started up the stone stairs, forcing Sebastian to follow.

"That wasn't precisely what I meant," Sebastian murmured, catching the door as Ciel reached for it. The boy scowled up at him, blue eye flashing an annoyance that Sebastian ignored. "Perhaps it would be better for me to enter first, Young Master, so that any traps that may be sprung do not catch their target." After a moment, Ciel released the door handle and stepped back slightly. Only the mulish set of his mouth gave any indication of his true feelings. Sebastian eased the door open. "Please stay behind me, Young Master."

Like all aged doors, broken and hinges rusted, it squeaked in protest as Sebastian opened it, poking his head through the gap cautiously. Red eyes examined the space in minute detail even as the door opened up further. Pews stood broken, wood scattering the floor mixed with glass, stone and the occasional vine that had grown weedlike across the floor. A single flame burned at the altar beneath the statue of God the humans worshipped; a candle, perhaps? Lightning flashed outside, making the remaining stained glass glow like embers and giving some hint as to their past beauty. The flash, however, had also illuminated the figure that knelt before the altar as though in prayer. He couldn't sense anyone else inside, so stepped aside to let Ciel move up beside him. The boy also examined their surroundings. "Is it just him?"

"Yes, but …" Sebastian paused, unsure for once how to describe the aura he felt. "Something does not feel right."

"Is it another demon?" Ciel asked quietly. Sebastian shook his head.

"No. Nor is it a Reaper."

"Well, in that case we have the advantage. Stay here, but at the slightest sign of trouble, deal with it or get us both away from here. Understood?"

"Perhaps I should come; I have a bad feeling about this." The demon's eyes narrowed at the kneeling figure.

"Stay here." The blue eye narrowed. "You've been testing my orders recently. Are you really trying to abide by our contract?"

Before the demon had a chance to reply the boy was gone, walking down the aisle towards the altar as thunder crashed. Red eyes flared crimson in anger, but the only thing left for Sebastian to do was put down the umbrella and shake it free of water. His eyes never left the small figure approaching the kneeling man. _Something just doesn't feel right. Am I just being paranoid?_

Ciel halted a few rows away from the kneeling man. From here, he could see the man wore a brown cape with the hood pulled up, covering his face. His back was to Ciel. In the silence between thunderclaps, he heard a rhythmic murmuring in another language which sounded slightly Germanic. Feeling Sebastian's eyes burning into his back, he waited for the next lull in the storm and said clearly. "Are you the one who sent me that note?"

The man spun around; apparently he had not sensed anyone behind him. Backing up slightly while remaining on his knees, the man nevertheless found the courage to speak. "You … you are Earl Phantomhive?" There was a slight accent to his English, not one that Ciel could easily pinpoint. Vivid blue eyes seemed to shine out of a pale face, reflecting light almost like the eyes of a cat. He looked past Ciel and caught sight of Sebastian. "Who is that?!"

Ciel sighed inwardly. _Another spineless individual._ "I am Ciel Phantomhive, the head of the Phantomhive family. That is merely my butler over there. I asked him to respect your wish for privacy. Now, stand up and show yourself."

He thought he saw the man's mouth twitch in annoyance, but took it as his imagination when a second later the man bowed. "Forgive me, my Lord." He got to his feet slowly and straightened for what seemed forever. Ciel regretted his decision for a moment. _He's just as tall as Sebastian! Perhaps almost as tall as Agni_. Long fingered hands pushed back the woven hood, revealing a pale face with a black fringe and two long side locks which framed his face. The rest of his hair was tied back in a ponytail. Slanted eyebrows gave the impression of angular features, and once again that clear, clear blue gazed stared at him. Ciel guessed the man was in his late twenties or early thirties, despite a long white streak in his hair that started at his left temple.

"My name is Argentine. Forgive me for being so rude as to ask you to come all this way – and in such weather. This meeting place is not particularly worthy of someone of your rank, but for a penniless priest such as myself it makes an ideal place to hide from …" Argentine shuddered. "Ill fortune, shall we say?"

Sebastian could barely hear the conversation; he caught snatches of it as the thunder died away. The other man seemed to offer Ciel something, which the boy took cautiously.

"Come. Before we talk of such horrors let us drink the holy water to protect us." Argentine seemed to notice Ciel's hesitation. "I shall drink first to prove that it is not poison or some such thing, if you wish." At the boy's nod, he drank a few swallows from the simple cup and waited. "You see? I am fine. Here."

"What has this to do with the information you say you have for me?" Ciel asked, suspicious.

Argentine shivered again and made the sign of the cross. "It is an evil thing of which I must speak, and doing so may attract its attention. Please, I beg of you, drink. It will protect us."

For the sake of the information – _it had better be good!_ – Ciel managed two mouthfuls of the bitter liquid and gave the cup back to the priest. "You say you are hiding from it?" Argentine nodded, eyes shadowed. "What is it?"

"A creature born of darkness, though it may look like a tall man. It uses the shadows to do its bidding: I watched as out of nowhere it grabbed its prey. I … I was on my way to a fellow brother's chapel when it struck. Ah, the horror … I've never been very brave, I confess. I ran, lest it catch up to me and devour my life as it did that woman's!"

"And what did it look like?" Ciel asked patiently. Clearly, the priest was prone to embellishing stories. _He should have been a bard, not a priest._

Argentine opened his mouth, but the voice that broke across the storm was not his. "That's enough, Argentine."

Everyone in the room swung around to look up at the stairs beside the altar that lead to the upper balconies. Standing on the top step was a tall man with short, fair hair the colour of flax. The design of his clothes suggested he was a noble: long coat, vest, some lace at the neck and wrists. Lightning flashed, revealing what had been another dark shadow on the stairs. Unlike his companion, who was more broad shouldered, this man was lankier and younger, perched on the railing casually. Short orange-red fell like flames around his face, although a long fringe covered most of the right side and the rest of his hair was tied back in a long ponytail. He too wore the clothes of a noble, but much more casually: the coat was open and his boots displayed buckled straps right up the side.

"Hello, Earl," the red-haired man called. "Pleasure to meet you at last."

The Phantomhive noble eyed the two men. "Marquess Vincent Von Barrett. Baron Randall D. Ashford," the red-haired man acknowledged his name with a wave, "what an unexpected pairing. Why are you here?"

"We were concerned about the murders going on in London and decided to make our own investigation into the matter," Von Barrett replied, voice cool.

Ciel raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

The red-haired Baron – _Ashford?_ Sebastian thought he'd heard Ciel correctly – surprised them by jumping smoothly from the railing to the ground below, landing easily despite the height. He walked towards Ciel. "Well, actually, it's a lie. We wanted to catch you and used Argentine as bait – and you fell for it!"

"You what?" Ciel asked incredulously, half-turning to Argentine. The world blurred and he stumbled. "What's – what did you do to me?" His voice trailed off in a mumble as within seconds the small boy collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut. Ashford reached forward and caught the boy, looking beyond the tall man pretending to be a priest.

"Argentine, behind you."

It was all the warning the pale man needed. The second Ciel had stumbled, Sebastian realised that _this was the source of his bad feeling_. His cry of "Young Master!" had been drowned out by the rumble of thunder as he dashed down the central aisle. Argentine half-turned, catching Sebastian's attack and managing to flip him over. Despite his surprise – how has the man managed to counter his attack? – Sebastian rolled, using the momentum to pass Argentine and aim for the Baron. Crystal green eyes widened as Sebastian's foot came rushing towards them. Ashford was knocked back a few paces, his grip weakening on Ciel enough for Sebastian to pull the young Earl from the man's hold. As he jumped backwards, the demon checked for a pulse and was extremely relieved to find a steady one. _It must be merely a sleeping drug that has knocked the Young Master out._

A flicker from the corner of his eye was all the warning he demon got. He raised his arm just in time to block Argentine's kick, the strength behind it sending shockwaves down his bones. "I never knew priests could fight," Sebastian said mockingly. Argentine grinned in return, exposing canines in a predator's grin.

"Well … I can't say I've ever been a man of God," was the reply as the brown cloak was thrown away. Underneath was a big-collared black coat that buckled across the chest down to the hip, where it flared out in two pieces. Vivid blue eyes blazed with the thrill of a fight to the same degree that Sebastian's red eyes glittered dangerously. _I need to get the Young Master away from here quickly_.

Sebastian got the impression that Argentine was playing with him, not fighting at his full potential as his opponent caught the demon's next punch and grabbed Sebastian by the neck with his other hand. Long nails dug into pale skin; a smirk played over the false priest's face.

Tiredness suddenly rolled across Sebastian's body, making his limbs feel like lead weights and his mind cloudy. _What's wrong with me?_ he thought, struggling against the almost paralysis. His grip on Ciel slackened and the boy's body began to slip out of his weakened arm. With a monumental effort, the demon forced away his fatigue and tightened his hold. Fingers clenched around his throat on the verge of choking him. "What … are … you?" Sebastian managed to growl, attempting to yank his other hand free.

Cold eyes, ice-blue and malevolent watched him in amusement as their owner refused to relinquish his hold on the butler's arm. Sebastian could feel blood beginning to trickle down his neck as nails dug through flesh. Argentine's eyes flickered as lightning flashed overhead, making it seem like the man's eyes changed colour briefly "I could say the same to you, _demon_," he hissed.

Crimson eyes widened for a fraction of a second. _He knows –? Definitely time to be going._

Argentine flinched as his captive's eyes narrowed, suddenly aglow in the gloom of the abandoned church. The only emotion in them was the desire to hurt and the promise of pain. A sadistic smile stretched the demon's lips over sharp teeth. _He's reverting back to his original appearance as a demon?_ Argentine wondered, tightening his grip further out of reflex.

White gloved fingers flashed; Argentine released Sebastian and stumbled backwards with a howl of pain. One pale hand was pressed to his arm. The sleeve hung in tatters around deep scratches as blood flowed in rivulets down the pale skin to mingle with the water on the stone floor. Pale eyes glared murder as Argentine brought his arm to his mouth and licked the blood running down it.

Sebastian glanced around, calculating distances. Rather than making a dash for the doors he instead leapt towards a hole in the wall, landing on the altar. Something flew out of the gloom at his head as he prepared to jump again. Sebastian caught the metal pipe with ease and threw it back towards the blond-haired noble. Metal met flesh with a satisfied _thwunk_.

Unfortunately, the pipe had not hit Von Barrett but had instead been intercepted midway by Argentine, who swung the weapon at Sebastian while he was in mid-jump. The demon twisted, flipping over to land on the pipe as it completed its swing and throwing the other man off balance for a split second. Ciel still hung limply in his arm. _What on earth did they give him_?

Argentine growled a curse in a foreign language and spun the pipe. Sebastian dodged it, landing on one foot and jumping backwards. Escape was only a few metres away. He landed again. Where was –?_ There_. The metal pipe swung toward his midsection, on a collision course with Ciel's head. Sebastian threw himself to the side in a one-handed cartwheel, shifting both him and his master clear of the attack.

His feet landed with a splash in a puddle of water. Surprised, Sebastian squinted towards the roof. Raindrops drenched his face as it poured through a hole in the roof. Argentine didn't try to attack, instead watching the demon from across the pool of water. _Why is that?_

It was a brief pause in the fight, a stalemate. Sebastian caught his breath as the rain poured down. His gaze darted to the unconscious boy in his arms, who was also scratched to the skin. _The Young Master will catch a cold like this. _His own discomfort was of little notice as he again calculated their escape. Only Argentine was within attacking range; both of the other nobles had retreated to the upper levels after the red-haired one had thrown the pipe.

"You fight well," Argentine said, resting the pipe on his shoulder. "I wasn't aware demons had loyalty towards any humans, to fight with such determination. Of course, if a contract is involved …" Argentine smirked. "A dog protecting his master?"

"Why are you doing this?" Sebastian demanded. "Why are you trying to kidnap the Young Master?"

"_I'm_ not," the pale man shrugged. He held out his damaged arm. "I owe you for this, by the way … Although I _am_ impressed; I haven't been injured by a demon for a long time." Again that cool smile. Sebastian noticed the blood had stopped flowing already. _Even though I cut his skin almost to the bone … What is he? Neither death god nor demon …but definitely not human._

The accented voice broke through his thoughts. "You demons dislike failing a contract, don't you?"

"What?"

Any explanation was cut short by a sharp _crack_. The sound boomed around the empty church as a bright flash filled the air. Lightning had struck the metal cross at the top of the church, following a metallic path down through the roof and blasting apart wood as it leapt downwards in a split-second, seeking the earth eagerly. Unfortunately, the grounding wire had fallen when the roof collapsed in the past; now its end trailed in the spreading pool of water on the church floor. The lightning raced through the water gleefully, curling round the form that stood there unknowingly.

Sebastian had no time to realise what had happened; as the bright flash hid the mocking grin on Argentine's face, a terrible, burning pain filled him as the lightning raced through his soaking wet form. He dropped to his knees, body curling over Ciel's in a vain attempt to protect his master. A scream was torn from his throat as he clutched Ciel; the smell of flesh burning strong in the air. Rational thought fled instantly; his mind was focused solely on the intense pain that was racing through his body.

It seemed like an eternity before the pain ended, although in reality only a moment had passed before the red eyes closed and the black form crumpled, arm still wrapped protectively around Ciel. _Forgive me, Young Master_, the demon had time to think just before he blacked out.

Marquess Von Barrett and Baron Ashford came to stand beside the tall form of Argentine, who had watched the entire display. Ashford eyed the two prone figures lying in the pool of water. "That was a brilliant move, planned or not, Argentine, but are you sure they aren't dead?"

Argentine eyed the red-haired man, then the victims. "Perhaps the human boy would have been, except that his butler took most of the lightning strike. I assume his contract is to protect the boy: in any case, demons have a high pain tolerance. I would be most surprised and disappointed if a mere lightning bolt managed to kill that one."

"Good work, Argentine," Von Barrett said. "Move them out of the water; I don't want them to get hit again accidentally."

"I'll get the boy," Ashford said, stepping through the water carefully. "He has something of mine, anyway." He managed to extract Ciel from the iron-like grip the other man – demon – had on him. Green eyes looked for damage and saw Argentine had been telling the truth: only a few bruises and burn marks marked the boy. As he carried Ciel back to his companions, Argentine examined his arm. "This will need treating."

"It's unlike you to get hurt," Von Barrett replied, raising an eyebrow. "But in this storm, hunting down any treatment is too dangerous, even for you."

"Hey, Vinny, we need to leave here as soon as possible if we want no witnesses. Besides, I don't want to be caught off guard when this guy wakes up." Randall Ashford indicated Sebastian.

Von Barrett sighed. "For once, you make a good point, Randall. And don't call me that. Argentine, get the butler and let's go."

"Very well." Argentine bowed. "It shall be as you wish, my Lord."

_oOoOoOoOoOo_

_Heat. Unbearable heat, searing him to the bone._

_Screams, flooding his head, swirling around and around without release. High-pitched yells of agony; deep sobbing pleas echoed within him, until he clapped his hands to his ears in an attempt to block them out. His own hoarse screams for them to s_top it right now!_ were drowned out, just one more desperate note in a ghastly symphony._

_The smell of burning flesh invaded his nostrils, making him want to retch, but Ciel still managed to draw together the courage to open his eyes. Even as a blurry outline of his surroundings appeared, the terrible, acrid heat was burning him, his eyes stinging and watering from the smoke that sears his throat as he gasped at the world around him._

_To even call it a world stretched the imagination; all that the boy could see were black flames rearing high around him. Ciel glanced around, seeking an escape route, but soon realised he was trapped._

Trapped. Helpless_._

_He was ten again, trapped in a burning house running from unknown figures, running to find his parents. "Mother! Father!"_

_Ciel caught sight of them on the other side of the wall of flames. "Wait!" _Please don't leave me here!_ Blood stained their clothes and skin as it had at the moment of their death. They laughed and walked away, oblivious to his calls. Another figure stepped out to meet them: Madam Red. The trio passed through the fire and smoke until only their laughter remained. _

"_Come back!" He stretched out a hand pleadingly, only to recoil from the fire around him. His prison was getting smaller as the fire moved inwards, greedy for food. There were faces in the leaping flames now, monsters and screaming faces; faces mad with laughter; all of them jeering and screaming and _reaching_ for him, wanting to make him a part of them. Ciel screamed again, calling for anyone to hear him, to help him. _Sebastian!

_The flames laughed, a horrible, crackling laugh punctured with the sharp click of footsteps on glass. A black form stood on the other side of the wall, head tilted to the side as its owner eyed him with a smirk._

"_You called?"_

_Smoke stung his eyes again as Ciel squinted through the flames. "Sebastian! Help me!"_

_A chuckle; the figure leant forward. It was not harmed by the fire; on the contrary, the black flames curled away from the face and swirled around pale arms, almost like a caress. Ciel recoiled from the sight before realising that the figure _was_ Sebastian, the demon having dropped his human appearance entirely and returned to the twisted, almost-human form the demon had first appeared in. Claret eyes gleamed. "You really _are _just a helpless brat, aren't you? Completely useless, without this." A clawed hand reached out, touching the boy's face and resting upon Ciel's right eye. Ciel screamed in pain; the demon's touch was molten, sending pain searing down his body. Sebastian smirked and removed his hand. As Ciel collapsed to the ground with a gasp, the demon turned around to leave._

"_Wait!" Ciel yelled, good eye wide. He tried to get up, to move at all, but found himself frozen in place. "Sebastian! This is an order! Save me!"_

"_Such things don't work here," Ciel heard the demon say as the fire prison grew smaller. A deep chuckle rolled around the space, Ciel watching in disbelief as Sebastian walked away. "Sebastian!!"_

Something touched his eyelid and he flinched, the touch cool and unexpected.

"I think he's waking up."

"Good. This can only be done while he's awake, anyway."

"Won't the other one try to interfere?"

"Not while Argentine's with him. Be calm."

"I'm the one risking my life here. If this doesn't work –"

"Then you'll most likely be torn to pieces."

"My point exactly! How can you –?"

"Do you doubt my skills?"

"What? No! Of course not."

"Then be calm."

The strange voices slipped through Ciel's sleep-fogged brain as he tried to calm down. _It was just another nightmare. Nothing to fear._ He opened his eye slowly, trying to bring the room into focus. His body hurt all over, although he could not remember being injured … his mind shied away from the thought of fire. A red blur moved to stand beside a yellow blur. "…Sebastian …?" he mumbled.

"Sorry to disappoint," the first voice said, a smirk hidden in the words. Ciel frowned, trying to see properly. He _knew_ that voice … had heard it only recently. "Don't you remember us?"

_The church. The priest who wasn't a priest. A cup of water and the arrival of two men. Bone tiredness. Falling. Darkness._ Ciel's blue eye widened in rage. "You!"

"Ah, it seems that you do," the red-haired one – _Randall_ – grinned, his hands in his pockets. "Welcome, young Earl. We hope you enjoy your stay." His blond companion raised an eyebrow at Randall, but Ciel hardly noticed. He was suddenly aware of his surroundings: a stone cell on three sides, the fourth side blocked by thick iron bars. Ciel tried to step forward, but couldn't move an inch. The rattle of chains made him look down: thick manacles encircled his ankles and secured them to the wall with a short chain. More chains held his hands spreadeagled above his head. No matter how hard he yanked on the chains, he couldn't budge. He turned his furious glare on the two other men in his cell who were watching his efforts in amusement. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Well, you see, to put it quite simply, you're in the way," Randall replied, still smirking slightly. "And you have something of mine."

"What do you mean?" Ciel demanded. The baron seemed more liable to talk, his energetic enthusiasm at complete contrasts to the smooth poker face of his companion, so it was to the red-head he directed his question.

Surprisingly, it was Vincent who answered. "There are some of us who are … dissatisfied … with the way the current monarch is ruling our country, and intend to act on it–"

"A _coup d'etat_?" Ciel said incredulously, forgetting the chains cutting into his skin. "Are you mad? Do you honestly think that will work?"

"Oh ho, he's a quick one," Randall piped up, leaning against the wall.

Vincent glanced at him sideways. "Quiet, Randall."

"And just how do you plan on playing this out?" the Phantomhive earl continued, still in disbelief. "Is that why you kidnapped me? For money?" _No; the Von Barrett family is incredibly wealthy …_ "To get me out of the way? Because I'm the Queen's watchdog?" _Although I deal with the underworld, not things like this!_

"The barking of a puppy does not worry us," Vincent shrugged. "Although certain steps are easier with you out of the scene. However, I'm afraid that you seem to be harbouring some deep misconceptions."

_I've heard enough._ "I've had enough of your foolishness!" Ciel snapped. Until now, he had kept his right eye closed to hide the contract within it, aware his eye patch had been removed. Now it opened to reveal the pentagram, glowing brightly in the half-gloom. Randall started, his crossed arms half rising out of their position; Vincent stepped back slightly. "Sebastian! I'm here; get rid of these fools!"

He waited for the butler to faithfully obey the summons as he always had, dispatching of these two who had_ dared_ to kidnap him and disgrace the Phantomhive name. _Game over for you._

But Sebastian didn't come.

Ciel frowned. _He's never disobeyed a summons before. _"Sebastian!" A tremor of pain flickered through his eye briefly and was gone. _What's going on?!_

Wide sapphire met satisfied crystal green and sky blue. "Well, it appears that Argentine knows what he is doing," Randall commented, his murmur just audible as though taking to himself. Vincent nodded once and returned his attention to Ciel.

"So, Phantomhive, you were saying?"

"I – I _–_" Ciel stammered slightly, cursing silently. _Sebastian! Come! Now!_ "What have you done?!" Again that flicker of pain.

"As I said," Vincent continued, leaning forward slightly. "You seem to be under several delusions, the biggest of which is that you assume we were after _you_ when we kidnapped you."

"You – what?" Ciel asked, trying to work this out. _They weren't after me? _"Then why _–_?" _And why aren't they surprised at the contract seal? _"Who _–_?"

"You have a fascinating butler, Ciel Phantomhive. Quite extraordinary." Vincent watched puzzlement, followed by dawning understanding and bewilderment cross the young boy's face.

"_Sebastian!_" Ciel exclaimed. "You were after _him_? Why? He's just an ordinary butler." _Let them think that._

Randall laughed. "Ciel, we've followed your movements ever since you came to London to solve the Jack the Ripper case. Sebastian is not an 'ordinary butler'. He's not even an ordinary _human_."

"What?" _Feign ignorance. _It made sense now, why the contract didn't alarm them. _Maybe if I pretend …_

"A demon, Ciel. We know all about him, and that contract you have in your eye there." Vincent pinched Ciel's cheek. "Don't bother trying to deny it."

"How – What – Why–?" Ciel was completely thrown off track.

"Well," Vincent said simply. "His services and … abilities would be useful to our cause."

A sapphire stare pierced the older man with contempt. "That will never happen. Sebastian obeys _me_, I hold the contract, and I won't ever tell him to listen to you." _Where _was_ the demon?_ "He won't join you." The certainty in his voice was clear.

Randall came to stand beside Vincent. "Ah, but I'm going to make him an offer he _can't_ refuse." White teeth flashed in a leering grin. "I wonder … does the contract still hold if you no longer have that eye?" Vincent moved towards Ciel, who flinched and tried to move away. "Like I said, you have something of mine. Don't worry; Vinny's an excellent doctor."

Ciel realised at last what Randall meant as Vincent grabbed his chin and held it firmly, claw like nails digging into flesh. A scream tore from his throat, a scream that grew higher and louder as the pain twisted unbearably.

A scream that still seemed to echo amongst the stones long after Ciel had fallen silent.

_oOoOoOoOoOo_

Sometime later, Argentine looked up as the cell door opened and the one he called 'master' entered through the doorway, assisting his young red-haired friend who gingerly stepped after him. He got to his feet and met them halfway, only just remembering to bow slightly. "My lord." A glance towards the unconscious black form showed it was chained in a similar style to the younger human boy, followed by a fleeting look at the red-head. "Did Ginger's operation go well?"

Crystal green flashed. "Don't call me 'Ginger', _butler_," Randall snarled, swaying slightly as he released Vincent and stood upright, hand touching his face.

"As you wish," Argentine replied, a faintly mocking smile on his lips. "I assume from your liveliness everything went as you planned, my lord?" The smile grew wider. "I could smell the blood from here."

"A sadist like you would, wouldn't you," Randall retorted, not meaning it as a question, but stopped when Vincent held up his hand for silence.

"Both of you, stop it. Randall, you are a noble, so act your station! You are no longer a commoner's brat. And you, Argentine! Stop antagonising the Baron – that's an order!"

Randall and Argentine wore identical scowls for a brief moment, before Argentine bowed smoothly. "Yes, my lord."

The red-haired man crossed the cell to examine the unconscious demon as Vincent continued. "Was there any trouble?"

"No. He stirred a few times and perhaps flinched, but otherwise I could handle it." Argentine eyed his 'master'. "Although I am weakened from the demon's previous attack and from expending so much energy since then."

"You haven't damaged him further, have you?" the blonde asked, nodding at Sebastian.

"No, I have not, although I would have liked to … I need to restore my energy. Since I cannot go out, you will have to treat me yourself, Doctor." An unspoken question – or demand – flickered through the pale blue eyes, to which Vincent nodded consent.

Randall, ignoring the conversation behind him, let out an exclamation. "Amazing! Most of his burns have healed already."

Vincent, rubbing his neck, came up beside Randall. "Argentine did say demons have an accelerated healing rate."

"Like the pestilence they are," Argentine added dryly. "Although it did make dealing with them more … enjoyable." He grinned as he watched the ginger-haired human edge further away from him. "Demon blood is sweet, Ginger. Haven't you ever tasted it?"

"I don't have an interest in such things," Randall replied frostily.

"Are you ready?" Vincent asked, cutting over his companion. "If you don't think yourself capable at the moment, speak now. The transplant should have integrated with your body by now, however, if any weakness remains …"

Randall drew himself up to his full height. Emerald green met twin blue stares. "I'm ready."

"Argentine, be on your guard just in case. Let him wake up now," Vincent ordered. The black-haired man bowed, pale blue eyes fixed on the demon's form.

_Pain_.

Sebastian's eyes snapped open. _Where am I?_ A slight frown flickered across his features. _And where is the Young Master? I should be able to sense his whereabouts through our contract._ All the demon could sense, however, was a blank void.

He examined his surroundings, noting the thick chains fastening him to the wall. _Pathetic_. The two nobles who had been in the church stood before him; with a flicker of annoyance he noticed Argentine standing behind the blond one with his arms crossed. His condescending look made the demon uncharacteristically bare his teeth. _What _is_ he? I _know_ he isn't demon or human._ Now that Argentine no longer needed to disguise himself to avoid suspicion, it was clear the foreigner's dark aura rivalled his own.

"Welcome, Sebastian," the blonde one said; the red-haired one merely swayed slightly on the spot, long fringe hiding half his face. "As you may remember, I am Marquess Vincent Von Barrett and my partner here is Baron Randall D. Ashford. You've already met my butler, Argentine." Said butler gave a small, mocking bow when his name was mentioned.

"What have you done with the Young Master?" Sebastian asked, testing the chains. To his surprise, he couldn't break them; it was as though his demonic powers had drained away, deserting him. Red eyes narrowed. _If Argentine knows my true nature, it is probably safe to assume that both Ashford and Von Barrett do as well._ "If you have harmed him, you _will_ regret it."

"The Phantomhive brat is fine," Von Barrett replied coolly. "It is not _his_ services we require."

"You … require my services?" Sebastian asked, raising an eyebrow. "I'm afraid that as the Phantomhive butler, you must talk to my master first. I obey only him."

"Do you?" Argentine countered, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. "Even after failing a contract order?"

A thread of dread wormed its way through Sebastian as he contemplated Argentine's words. He had not only failed to protect the Young Master: for the first time, he had failed a condition of the various contracts he had found himself bound in over the years. _Is that why I can no longer sense the Young Master? _"What have you done to the Young Master?" he repeated coldly. _No; the contract holds. I can still feel its binding._

"A demon obeys its contract holder, correct?" Ashford said, finally opening his mouth to speak. "Why not give that up and join us?"

"I have no intention of doing so," Sebastian replied coolly. "I will not betray a contract."

Ashford smirked. "I thought you might say something like that …" He reached up and pushed his fringe back, baring his right eye. "Does _this_ change things?"

Blood red eyes widened at the pentacle glowing in Ashford's right eye, which was no longer green but pale lavender. Each demon had their own unique contract seal; Sebastian didn't need the twinge of pain across his hand to recognise the symbol as his own even as his mind flooded with shock.

_That's impossible!_ "How –?!" he gasped.

Ashford grinned. "Let's just say that your friend graciously provided us with his part of the contract."

Sebastian's eyes widened further. _They took the Young Master's eye and substituted it for one of Ashford's own – is that even possible? _The demon had never heard of anything like this happening before. "It will not work. I –"

"As a demon, you are obliged to obey the one who holds the contract," Argentine reminded him, walking closer. His scent, the reek of blood, was stronger than what it had been in the church. "That human brat no longer does, so if you want to fulfil your contract and keep your all-important principles, you will obey Baron Ashford."

The demon was wracked with indecision. On one hand, his contract had been with the Young Master, not this noble; but then, the Young Master no longer held the mark of their contract. Would it be a betrayal if he obeyed Ashford? Would that break the contract completely? Or would it break if he refused to serve the new master who now held it? Breaking the contract meant breaking his own principles, his reputation, beyond repair. "How do you even know that you managed to transfer the seal's power with the eye?"

"You want a demonstration that I am your master now, do you?" Randall asked, waving off Vincent's murmured caution. "Very well. I'll prove it." The pentacle shone eerily. "This is an order. When I release you from those shackles, you are to do nothing. Not attack, not fight, not run; just stay there."

Sebastian twitched. The seal on his hand was burning; a sign the order came from the legitimate contract bearer. His eyes followed Ashford as the red-haired man let his fringe drop, hiding his eye once again, and came over as a key appeared in his hands.

The chains dropped with a metallic tinkling of sound. Sebastian stood there, rubbing his wrists, but did not attempt to move. Argentine grinned cruelly. "I told you, didn't I? Anything to protect their reputations; demons have no loyalty to anyone."

Sebastian ignored him, instead bowing to Ashford. "My lord."

A satisfied smile crossed Ashford's face.

_oOoOoOoOoOo_

Ciel thought he was dreaming again when the cell door opened again and Sebastian's familiar form walked through. _How long have I been here?_ Ciel wondered, his memory hazy from pain and shock. _My eye … my eye is gone … and it hurts … so much …_ "Sebastian!" he cried in relief. His words were slightly slurred; whether this was a result of pain or of drugs, the demon didn't know. "Where have you been? You're late!"

Ciel expected the customary "Forgive me, Young Master" response Sebastian always gave, but the demon was silent, looking him over to assess the damage the young boy had taken. Ciel looked so small, so vulnerable; his face lined with pain, the closed eyelid sagging loosely over the empty socket. Sebastian found himself reaching out to touch the missing eye as though to confirm its disappearance. Ciel flinched at his touch, bloody tear tracks streaking his cheeks. For a moment, the boy looked just as he had when the demon had first met him: dishevelled, injured and lost.

"Sebastian, hurry up and get us out of here. You need to take care of those two excuses for nobles, if you haven't already …" Ciel's voice trailed off as Sebastian pulled his hand back, still staring at him. "…Sebastian?"

Randall appeared at the doorway. "Come on, Sebastian, leave that brat here." To Ciel's confusion and shock, the butler turned away.

"Wait … Sebastian …" Ciel's voice wavered, disbelief squeezing his chest and making it hard for him to breathe. A haze of pain washed across his body; emotional hurt mixing with the physical pain the boy was still struggling against. "Why are you … Our contract …"

"You lost the right to call yourself his master when you lost your eye," Randall informed him, flipping his fringe out of the way to briefly display what had been Ciel's eye. "Sebastian isn't yours anymore."

"Sebastian!" Ciel's voice was desperate. His former butler stopped and glanced back at him, that false smile on his face again. Ciel _hated_ that smile, hated the fake emotions behind it, though it had fooled many people in the past. _He's joking, right? Surely this is a plan to lull Randall into a false sense of security? He's not ...serious … right …?_ However, Sebastian gave no indication that this was a façade as he replied.

"I have no intention of serving such an annoying brat, so please refrain from calling yourself my master."

"So it's true then?" Ciel retorted bitterly. "I was right that I shouldn't trust you. Demons really don't have any sense of loyalty, do they? I merely deluded myself into thinking that you actually cared beyond your precious contract." _My mistake._

_You never trusted me._ Sebastian bit back the words as he grabbed Ciel's chin and forced it upwards so that their eyes met. "Then you were foolish," he hissed. "I serve the contract bearer only, regardless of who it is."

"They took my eye, dammit! Where were you then?!" Ciel demanded, a fierce anger pushing all other emotion aside. "You disobeyed my orders to come; you failed to do your job!"

Perhaps it was his imagination, but Ciel thought he felt the demon flinch, grip tightening on his chin. However, Sebastian's voice remained cold and emotionless as he replied, "That is neither here nor there, _Young Master_." The address, once respectful, was now twisted with a sneer.

"So you don't care that they plan a coup?"

_A coup?_ wondered Sebastian. _That would explain much._ He smiled grimly and released Ciel, shrugging as he replied, "As long as I receive a soul in return for my services at the end, I do not care what my master's motives are. I have told you this once before." Ciel growled as the demon turned away.

Watching the tall black form walking away from him, something within Ciel broke. For the past two years Sebastian had been a fixed point in his life, something for Ciel to hang on to so that he was not lost amid the world of death, lies and trickery that he found himself in. He had been the _only_ fixed point in his life; nothing else ever stayed the same. Ciel had resented the demon at times: resented the threads binding them tightly that were invisible yet harder than steel; the constant gaze and cool demeanour; the perfection; the fact that no matter what he did, Sebastian would never leave his side. The demon would always be constantly, irrevocably _there_.

A small comfort Ciel had come to depend on in his loneliness, revealed as a fact he had taken for granted.

Now that which he had thought permanent was crumbling; he was being abandoned, swept away with no-one to hold out a hand to save him. All of those dreams, those _nightmares_, of betrayal and yet Ciel had never really considered the demon would leave him, not like this.

_Something once lost can never be regained._

Despair welled up in Ciel as the demon's first words came back to him. "You promised you'd never leave me!" he shouted at the departing demon. "_You promised you'd be the one to never betray me, to always be by my side! _SEBASTIAN!_"_ The pain hurt worse than in his dream; it was tearing him apart. _I have nothing left._ "_COME BACK!!"_

The demon gave him a fleeting glance, red eyes unreadable, before he disappeared through the door after Randall, closing it behind him. A sob wrenched itself from Ciel's throat, followed by a painful cascade of tears. Outside, Sebastian paused for a moment, listening as the once proud boy broke down. Randall raised a questioning eyebrow at him and the demon shook his head. "It's nothing."

Left behind in the darkness, an abandoned boy cried uncontrollably, truly alone in his stone cage.

_oOoOoOoOoOo_

END CHAPTER 2

_oOoOoOoOoOo_

A/N: Ciel~~~ (T-T) .... That was my first time writing anything angsty, so I hope it turned out alright :sweatdrop:

Well, the second chapter finally made it here! Somehow it ended up being even longer than the first one haha orz So I commend everyone who made it all the way down here, haha~ Speaking of which, I've posted a poll on my profile about how long you like chapters to be in a story. It probably won't change the chapter length for FN, but for future stories it would be really helpful to know~ So please, head over to my profile page and take part~ I would appreciate it heaps! (^o^)/ Thanks!

Banzai for Sohma's appearance in the anime!! \(^o^)/ hahaha he's awesome~ Although Agni has a lower voice than I expected~ The character songs for Sebastian that came out are pretty awesome too XD

Hope you enjoyed this chapter! :D

_What's going to happen now that Ciel's lost his eye, and consequently, Sebastian? Please look forward to Chapter 3 (currently in-progress) :_ That Butler, Consequence_!_


	3. That Butler, Consequence

Hello people~! Hope you're all doing well ^_^ Sorry for the wait~! But the next chapter of FN is finally here, longer and (hopefully) better than ever XD

Warnings: Uh, it's set after the Indian arc, so it refers to characters/events that have happened before then~ Also, I should probably warn that there is blood?

Disclaimer: I still don't own Kuroshitsuji, so nothing there has changed ... I do, however, claim ownership of Randall, Vincent and Argentine, and therefore apologise to Ciel and Sebastian for the trouble that those three are causing. (-/\-)

Author Ramblings: To everyone who reviewed, thank you so much! (^o^)/ Sorry it took so long to reply to some of you. Thank you also to the people who have favourited/alerted this story~! Like always, a big thank you to my beta Ryouta, who takes the time to check this story for the dumb mistakes I am bound to make XD

Hope you enjoy the story~ (^_^)b Thank you for reading~

_**oOoOoOoOoOo**_

**Chapter 3**

**In the Afternoon: That Butler, Consequence**

A fortnight had passed since that anguished meeting.

Ciel had not spoken another word since then, remaining absorbed in a numb silence. If his dull gaze narrowed slightly whenever the dark-haired butler arrived with his meagre meal, Sebastian didn't notice. For some absurd reason, he found it hard to meet Ciel's gaze. It was almost as though he were … _afraid_ to look in the remaining blue eye and see something broken. So he too was silent, exchanging the fresh tray of food with the one on the floor. There were days when the food lay untouched, not a crumb displaced from its original position, and the boy sat huddled against the wall staring into space.

He had been assigned Ciel's care amongst his duties; whether it was a cruel joke, extreme trust (though he doubted _that_) or just that Argentine couldn't be bothered, he didn't know. For some reason they didn't want the boy to die, though only Ashford was adamant about it – Argentine had been warned that Ciel was not to be harmed and Von Barrett didn't really seem to care either way.

Sebastian had learnt on that first day that they were in Von Barrett's townhouse, although calling it a 'townhouse' was akin to calling a tiger a kitten. His new master was staying here as a guest, technically placing Argentine at a higher ranking than himself. However, the foreign man seemed uninterested in most of the duties of a butler and often left Sebastian to take care of everything himself. A few old servants also lived there too; though hard of hearing, they actually seemed competent in their jobs, much to Sebastian's relief. No longer was the demon interrupted every five minutes to deal with yet another mishap; no longer did he have to put up with those _annoyances_ that seemed to gather around his former master like human flies. He might have jumped for joy at the mere thought of it, were he the type to indulge in such behaviour. _But_, he thought,_ thankfully I am not._

If his daytime duties had not changed much with his shift in masters, his night-time duties certainly had. While the city slept, Sebastian found himself sent on missions that generally involved spying on people obstructing Ashford's and Von Barrett's path to power.

Argentine often joined him on these night-time sojourns despite the fact he did nothing during the day, annoying the demon to no ends. Sebastian had lost track of the times he had felt that ice-blue stare on his back and was only offered a slight mocking curve of the pale lips by way of explanation when red met blue. Gloved fingers would twitch, wanting to wrap around that pale neck and squeeze the breath from it, snap the bone and – _No. As the Ashford butler, I cannot go and kill the butler of my master's ally_, he would remind himself. _No matter how much I want to._ Their most recent night encounter had done nothing to make Sebastian change his mind.

_The room lay in darkness, shadows stretching languorously across the floor, sprawled across the bed and crawled towards the chest of drawers in the corner. Not all of the dark patches were merely shadow, however. Blood was splashed around the room like an artist gone mad, macabre paintings of blotches and spots covering the walls while pools of the red liquid slowly seeped into the carpet. Two shapes were barely visible through the gloom as they stood in the centre of the room. Twin red gleams seemed to reflect the carnage as one of the shapes moved slightly, barely breaking the sudden silence that rang loudly in the aftermath of whatever had taken place in that room._

_Sebastian surveyed the mangled ruins he held of what had once been a human being. The man's whimpering had been pathetic; his screaming at the end barely making up for the boredom the demon had been feeling at the start._ Rich or poor, it didn't matter when they met their death. _The man's soul had been acrid, making Sebastian's mouth twist in disgust at the bitter aftertaste. Still, any scrap of food was a feast for a starving man – and Sebastian had not eaten for a very, very long time._

_He dropped the carcass – it could no longer even be called a body; the person who found it would have nightmares for_ months – _into the pool of blood at his feet, being careful not to splash any on his clothes. Bloodstains, he had learnt, were extremely hard to wash out, not to mention he'd have to explain to the maids why there was blood in the first place._

_A sudden gust of wind gushed through the open window – the very window Sebastian had used to get into the fool's bedroom. _Humans really can be brainless. For all this security, it was all too easy to actually gain entry. _Sebastian shook his head, turning away from the corpse._

"_Well, isn't this a great work of art," an accented voice drawled. Sebastian half-turned, red eyes flat at the sight of Argentine perching on the window sill. "I must commend your artistic skills. I could smell this several blocks away."_

_Sebastian turned his back on the other butler, ignoring instincts that screamed for him not to do so. He chose not to reply, instead pulling off his blood-stained gloves with his teeth._ I should have closed the window_, he thought irritably._

_Argentine, it seemed, either did not sense the coolness directed towards him or else did not care. He jumped down lightly from the sill and walked carefully across the carpet, his black coat rustling quietly. Sebastian stepped away as he came closer, but all of Argentine's attention was focused on the blood-soaked remains._

"_Who was that?"_

"_Someone who displeased my master, which is all you need know." Sebastian felt something wet trickling down his cheek. When he wiped it his fingertip came away stained with the dead man's blood. He licked it clean, the blood masking the bitter tang of the man's soul._

"_Ah, yes, your precious contract orders." Argentine shrugged. "I forgot." His mouth stretched in a smirking grin, unnaturally sharp canines gleaming white in the pale moonlight filtering through the billowing curtains. Something stirred in the back of the demon's mind, a flash of memory gone before he could even register it much to Sebastian's frustration. He had been racking his brain for the last two weeks, trying to puzzle out the mystery of the foreign butler's existence – Sebastian had a nagging feeling he _knew_, but could not remember. _The only disadvantage to having lived so long – there were so many memories to search!

_Argentine had begun to speak again; Sebastian grudgingly returned his attention to the other figure. "– ah, but we are co-conspirators, correct? We should work together as partners." He clapped a hand on Sebastian's shoulder._

_Sebastian's eyes flashed crimson, irritation surging through him. He pushed Argentine's hand off his shoulder, perhaps more roughly than he had first intended and stepped away, turning to face the pale man. "If you truly feel that way, perhaps you should take your own share of the household chores, _partner_." That said, he turned away and crouched down to check that the dead man's face was still recognisable. His _… work_ … would be wasted otherwise._

"_Why, when you do such a good job on your own?" Argentine replied lazily, walking off to check the rest of the room and peering into the mirror with interest. "Demons are suited to hard work, anyway. Why would I bother?"_

_A sharp _crack!_ filled the air, making Argentine jump slightly. Sebastian growled under his breath: in his frustration, he'd snapped the dead man's neck completely, leaving it twisted at an odd angle. Argentine wandered back. "You know, snapping his neck won't make him any more dead. I've heard you demons are wasteful, but –" Amusement was tucked into the corners of his smile and shone in his eyes as he met the disdainful claret glare of his fellow butler. Sebastian stood abruptly._

"_We should go. The guards will not stay unconscious forever; it would not do if we were found here," he said, donning his sleek black tailcoat as he walked past Argentine towards the window. _Although it would be nice if _you_ were discovered and killed …

"_I'll stay."_

_The demon stopped abruptly and frowned at Argentine in confusion. Argentine raised an eyebrow in return. "To take care of the clean-up," he elaborated, waving a hand at the room. "I don't think even Ginger meant you to spread the man around the room. It might be better if it looked a little more … human-done, perhaps." He shrugged. "Just my advice."_

"_If I feel a need for your 'advice'," Sebastian told him, voice cold as he tugged on a pair of fresh gloves, "I will ask you for it."_

"_Very well." Argentine turned away. Sebastian was about to leave when the man commented in an off-hand voice, "If you're so starving, demon, why not just eat the one in Barrett's dungeon?"_

_Something flickered across the red eyes, an emotion that passed too quickly for anyone to read. Sebastian didn't want to think about Ciel. "Like I said before, I will ask advice if I wish to receive it. What I do is none of your concern." Leaping lightly onto the window sill, the demon's form was silhouetted by the moon for a split second before he leapt off into the night._

Why does that idiot keep following me around?_ Sebastian wondered, jumping from rooftop to rooftop. He had an hour to get back before Ashford awoke. _Doesn't he have anything else to do?

"Ouch!" complained a voice, breaking through the demon's thoughts. "Watch what you're doing! Are you trying to choke me?" Sebastian blinked, still half-caught in his memory as Randall tugged on the ribbon at his neck.

"Forgive me, Master," he murmured, loosening the knot with deft fingers as the red-haired noble 'tch'ed in annoyance. When he was done, Randall sat down on the bed, reading over the notes Sebastian had given him: a report on the results of his nightly spying.

"It seems like the spymaster hasn't caught a whisper of our plans yet. That's good," the noble muttered to himself, leafing through the pages as Sebastian slipped a boot onto his master's foot and began buckling up the straps. "And the other matter?"

The demon glanced up, meeting the sharp crystal green gaze. Randall's fiery fringe veiled the eye bearing the contract seal but Sebastian felt the gaze pierce him as the mark gleamed in warning. Randall may have acted like a carefree noble, but Sebastian could tell that beneath that mask there was a hidden and dangerous side. He had enough experience in reading humans; the Young Master had been exactly the same.

Sebastian's mind came to a standstill. _Did I just refer to that brat … as my master …?_ Why was it so hard to break this habit? He'd never had this kind of trouble before! But then, he had never switched masters mid-contract before; had never even heard of a situation where it had happened. He frowned inwardly. _Ciel is not my master anymore. I needn't concern myself over him._

It was the mark of a demon that this process had taken less than a breath of time: Randall waited patiently for an answer. Sebastian gave the tiniest of smirks, covering his sudden uneasiness and replied, "It has been taken care of as you asked, my Lord."

He heard, rather than saw, Randall smile as the butler returned his attention to the other boot. "Good. He had no time to alert anyone?"

"No, Master."

"Even better." There was a rustling of paper. "By the way, Sebastian, how is the brat doing?"

Sebastian froze instinctively. Ciel's anguished face rose up in his mind again, forcing him to close his eyes and try to rid himself of the image. Why was the boy haunting him so? Demons did not feel regret; that was for other beings. Perhaps the loss of a strong soul was what irked him – he would have enjoyed feasting on that energy, feel the torment and anguish of the condemned spirit. Still; the contract was still linked to a strong soul – it seemed his current master had more in common with the Young Ma – with _Ciel_ than just a hidden side to their personality.

With so many thoughts rushing through his head, Sebastian wasn't sure what to reply or even what Randall wanted to hear. He opted for the simple truth. "He's still alive, my Lord."

Slim fingers curled around the butler's chin, forcing him to meet Randall's gaze once again. There was a gleam of cold amusement in those emerald depths. Sebastian kept his own face blank, fighting the memory of another set of fingers and another cruel smile flickering over younger features. Randall tilted his head to the side like an inquisitive bird as he examined the demon's face; for what, Sebastian didn't know. That small smile remained as the noble inquired, "I trust you are taking good care of him, however?"

Sebastian bowed, placing a hand over his heart. It was a useless gesture, utterly meaningless to a demon. _The dwellers of Hell are a heartless race._ "Of course, my Lord."

Randall held his gaze for a moment longer before dropping his hand abruptly. "Get my coat." As the butler obeyed, the red-head stood and stamped his feet to settle his boots properly. He held out his arms, a silent signal to Sebastian. "Today's schedule?"

"You have a piano lesson at 10 o'clock; after that, you need to review the current stocks of the Ashford business and check the accounts. Viscount Darlington is coming this afternoon for a meeting with both yourself and the Marquess," the demon listed smoothly. He glanced out the window. "As the weather is so fine, would you prefer afternoon tea outside today?"

"No, not if Darlington is coming; we'll be taking it in the map room. Argentine can serve us, so your presence is not required."

Sebastian bowed smoothly, keeping the annoyance out of his expression. _I thought so._ The map room was the one place in the house he had been expressively forbidden to enter, to the extent that his master had issued a forceful order which he could find no way around. Argentine was under no such restriction; Sebastian had seen him go through that door several times, although whether he actually took part in the meetings was unknown. In fact, that was the only time the demon was rid of his annoying shadow. Red eyes gleamed with frustration. _I know that room has to be where they discuss their plans for this coup. _Sebastian was still in the dark when it came to their actual plans – he hated not having an idea of what they were up to. _His_ role seemed to be merely spy or silence those that did not like what they heard… like his dinner the previous night.

"Very well, my Lord." Listening at the door was futile; he had a feeling that Argentine stood directly on the other side to prevent such an occurrence. The thought made him smirk. _He called me the Young Master's guard dog, but it seems that he is no better than a dog himself._ His lip drew back over his teeth slightly, baring canine teeth. _And I absolutely _hate_ dogs._

"Although …" Randall glanced out the window. "I may go for a walk in the gardens after lunch. Vinny's usually busy then anyway, and I don't think I could take _that_ sadist's company either."

"Master?" Sebastian was confused. _Does he mean Von Barrett?_

Randall was still staring out the window, lost in his thoughts. "I wish he'd _act_ more like a butler, or else someone is going to get suspicious. Not that he was ever a good butler when he tried, though." His voice was low, barely above a murmur as he spoke aloud.

_Ah._ Now Sebastian understood what the redhead was talking about. _Was Ciel ever this vague and incomprehensible? _he wondered, stepping away from Randall having completed his task. _Perhaps if I play this right …_ "If my Lord doesn't mind telling me, who exactly _is_ Argentine?"

The redhead jerked out of his thoughts, green eye widening a fraction in disbelief as he turned to stare at the demon. _Is he being serious?_ The disbelief only lasted a second before Randall's mouth stretched into a smirk. "You mean you don't know?" When his butler didn't reply, he shrugged. "From what I've heard from Argentine, I'd have thought that _you_ of all people could figure it out, being a demon." Randall paused. "Although I didn't believe Vinny when he first told me."

Sebastian frowned, red eyes troubled. I _should know of all people? _Could_ Argentine be a demon?_ No; that was impossible – he would have sensed it in the man's aura. _And how does Argentine seem to know so much about demons?_ A creature that knows demons, a creature that should be known by demons. Memory twinged again in the back of his mind, calling out to be heard, but fell silent at the sound of the door opening. He glanced up to see Randall disappearing out the door.

"If you don't know, _I'm _not going to tell you."

_oOoOoOoOoOo_

Red eyes studied the pale figure standing to the side of Von Barrett as the blonde ate breakfast. Argentine looked to be asleep with his eyes open, so little did he move, although the demon couldn't help thinking that the man probably _was_ sleepy if his half-lidded eyes were any indication. His master was right; Argentine didn't act like a butler at all – if anything, his arrogance was equal to those of noble rank. _He probably is fairly high in the hierarchy of whatever society he came from …_ but if that was the case, what was he doing acing as a butler?

"– this Darlington is a friend of yours?" Von Barrett's low voice rumbled.

Randall nodded, taking a bite of his pancake. "Yes, that's right. I met Clarence in military training. He got a posting as officer straight away because of his rank, but he had the skills for it, unlike most of the idiots I saw. When I made officer as well we watched each other's backs like we had in training. I think he'll join us; at the very least, he won't betray us –" Von Barrett's eyes flickered to Sebastian and back, clearly warning Randall not to say much more. Randall took the hint and fell silent, leaving Sebastian to muse over what he had heard. His master had served in the army? It was hard to imagine him walking that soul-strewn ground.

When breakfast was over, Randall beckoned to Sebastian. As he leant over to hear this request, the noble withdrew from a pocket inside his tan coat an envelope addressed to a name Sebastian recognised as a prominent merchant in London. The red-head handed it to Sebastian, saying as he did so, "I want you to deliver it personally and make sure he gets it, understood? And don't read it." A hand brushed the fringe out of his eyes, purple eye briefly visible. Whether he meant it as a threat or not, the butler couldn't tell, but bowed all the same.

"I would not dream of doing such a thing, my Lord."

He wondered if Randall was nervous – he seemed to display the contract seal much more than Ciel ever had. _And well, he should be worried_. He had to work hard to stop the hungry smile that threatened to spread across his face.

Footsteps drew his attention. Sebastian found Von Barrett standing before him; Argentine remained over near the door. The noble's cold blue eyes examined him. They were of equal height, unlike his master who was half a head shorter than either of them. It was odd to see the man without a coat, but the fire crackling beside them kept the room warm.

"Vinny, if you've got something to ask him, go ahead, don't just stand there," Randall sighed, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

Von Barrett's eye's flickered towards his younger friend. "I'd appreciate if you didn't call me that." Randall flapped a hand at him airily – _yes, yes, whatever you say_ – and stood up. The blonde sniffed slightly and produced an envelope of his own. "Since Argentine can't deliver it himself, deliver this to the grey house on Pittman Street. You can't miss it."

Argentine reappeared, though Sebastian had not noticed him disappearing in the first place. "Ginger, the housekeeper says your piano tutor has arrived."

Von Barrett placed a hand on Randall's shoulder as the redhead started forward angrily. "Argentine," he said mildly. "Perhaps it would be best not to call Lord Ashford that. I will have no fighting amongst our own ranks." Argentine pouted. The blonde leant over to whisper softly in Randall's ear, the latter still growling until his breath. Sebastian was close enough to hear Von Barrett's words, though they were clearly meant for the younger noble. "And you need to calm down, Randall. If you can let a small thing like that get to you –"

"If it were anyone else I'd be fine," Randall hissed, green eye burning. "It's just him that irritates me."

"Noblemen don't _get_ irritated by such small things. Don't disgrace the name of your house, Randall." He dropped his hand from Randall's shoulder. With an effort, the younger noble's shoulders relaxed.

"I don't know how you put up with that creep," he muttered. Green and purple eyes glanced back, widening slightly as their owner realised Sebastian was still there. A slight flush of pink washed across Randall's cheeks, and he drew himself up. "In any case, make sure you deliver those letters." He swept out of the room after Von Barrett with a stiff back. Sebastian couldn't hep smiling, but quickly composed himself.

Argentine was still standing by the door. "Why are you still here? Shouldn't you be with Von Barrett?" Sebastian asked, suppressing a sigh.

Pale blue eyes blinked at him, before Argentine smirked. "I was just amused to see Ginger stalk off, that's all." His gaze fell on the two envelopes in the demon's hand. "I heard there were two more attacks last night like the ones you were investigating." His smirk widened, clapping a hand on Sebastian's shoulder. "You'd best take care. We wouldn't want _you_ to get hurt, now would we?"

Sebastian irritably brushed his hand away. "Thank you for your false concern, but I don't think I need worry." He pulled the door open with more force than was necessary. As the door closed behind him, he heard Argentine call from inside,

"Who knows, maybe the culprit would like a taste of demon blood next."

The demon ignored him, walking down the hallway and tucking the letters away in his coat. Until Argentine had mentioned it, he had completely forgotten the murders he and the Young M – Ciel had been investigating. By all things unholy, he _had_ to stop this nonsense of calling Ciel his master. The boy was neither his master as a demon _or_ as a butler anymore.

Pushing all of it out of his mind, he checked his pocket watch while ignoring the Phantomhive crest engraved on the front. _Hmm … I don't have time to deliver those letters now; I'll have to do it later._

_oOoOoOoOoOo_

Ciel had lost all sense of time down in his cell. Most of the time he sat slumped against the wall in a daze; legs sprawled to either side, his arms hanging from the shackles above his head. The burning in his wrists and ankles from skin rubbed raw by metal and the dull ache in his empty socket no longer registered in his mind; nor did the blood that trickled down his skin when a wound reopened.

Sometimes the torches burnt out and were replaced by Sebastian. Ciel was barely aware of the demon's presence; he felt hollow, empty, and yet the sight of that familiar black-clad figure made howls of misery tear across his soul. Abandonment, betrayal, hopelessness… Ciel had never wanted to feel those emotions ever again, not since _that_ month. He had sworn not to get close to anyone again, in fear they too would be taken away from him; in case they disappeared forever. It was strange, but somehow he had grown more attached to Sebastian than he had ever wanted. Why was it such a shock to him that Sebastian had betrayed him? Just because he had foolishly ordered the demon to stay did not mean he had the demon's loyalty.

Loyalty? _Ha_.

There would be no rescue from this place; it had been Sebastian who had rescued him from hell before. _No,_ Ciel corrected himself_. He did it not to rescue me – he just wanted to chain my fate to his, to consume my soul._

Sometimes, usually in the times when he drifted between sleep and reality, he thought that he was dreaming his captivity. Surely there would be a gentle knock and Sebastian would come through the door, ready to awaken him from this nightmare. But then harsh reality would set in and the ash-haired boy would be left feeling even worse than before, tears leaking from the corner of his single eye and from beneath his empty eyelid. The sting of the salty liquid sliding across cuts and bruises made him hiss.

Almost on cue, Ciel heard the door to this dungeon creak open and heavy foot-falls on the stone steps. It wasn't Sebastian; the demon walked quietly, another trait he shared in common with the felines he loved so much. Was it one of the nobles, coming to taunt him? A spark of rebellion blossomed within him, intensified by the knowledge that it was not Sebastian he would be facing, giving Ciel the strength to pull himself to his feet with a clinking of chains. He winced in pain as the metal dug into his raw skin, but his eyes glinted determinedly. _I am the head of the Phantomhive estate, and these bastards will know it. I will not remain on my knees before them!_ An indescribable anger thundered through him, warming him as its fire filled him. His remaining eye stared through the gloom, trying to see who had come.

The iron bars of his cell rattled as someone leant on one of the horizontal bars, arms dangling through the gaps. "Well, well, well, what do we have here?" A leering grin flashed sharp white teeth.

Confusion drowned out anger as Ciel stared at the newcomer. _I've seen this man before._ "Who are you?" He winced at how his voice grated from its long disuse.

Black hair with a distinctive white stripe, a long black coat with straps across the chest … Ice blue eyes met his in amusement, although a look of mock hurt crossed the pale face, so pale it was as though the flickering flames had drained all the colour from the skin. "You don't remember me? I'm crushed." A long nailed hand touched his heart.

Ciel stared at the man when suddenly he recognised him. "You!" he breathed, lip drawing back over teeth. "You _were_ working for them!!" His last words were almost a snarl.

Argentine sighed. "I would have thought that was obvious by now," he drawled, pulling a bunch of keys from his pocket. As Ciel glared murder at him, the key turned in the lock with a resounding _thwunk_ and Argentine opened the door, pocketing the ring of keys once more.

"Allow me to re-introduce myself, Ciel Phantomhive. I am not the fearful priest you thought me to be. My name is Argentine Voltaire … butler to the Marquess Von Barrett. Pleased to make your acquaintance." He bowed mockingly.

"Well, I'm not," Ciel retorted. There was something about this man that reminded him of Sebastian, not least that they were clearly more than a mere butler. There was a similar dark aura around them, a false smile hiding a dangerous, uncontrollable monster. "Why are you here?"

Argentine wasn't listening; his pale eyes were fixed on the torches in the room. A frown passed across his face, and he flicked his fingers at them. The flames winked out, plunging the room into a darker gloom, lit now only by the light beyond his cell. "That's better," Ciel heard the man murmur, sounding satisfied. A rustling of clothes told Ciel the pale man had turned his attention to him. "Why am I here? I just thought I'd see how you were coping without your demon to look after you."

"I can look after myself!" Ciel snapped back. Argentine chuckled.

"Oh, of course. Forgive me for not noticing it earlier. Of course you meant to get yourself chained up in here."

Ciel 'tch'ed in anger. "What makes you think I didn't?"

A snort. "Naturally you wanted to be betrayed by someone you trusted – oh, and have your eye taken from you, leaving you half-blind." Argentine leaned closer, face only a few inches from Ciel's and his breath misting across the boy's face. Ciel tried to step backwards instinctively; but there was nowhere to go. His nose wrinkled at the reek of blood that washed across his senses. "Just what good _are_ you without the demon, brat? You amount to nothing."

"I don't need him," Ciel growled, blue eye flashing. _I don't need a traitor._

"Is that so?" the pale man murmured, grasping Ciel's chin and digging his nails into the tender skin when the boy struggled. He chuckled, and leant forward to whisper in Ciel's ear, "Don't be deluded, _boy_." Without further warning, he licked Ciel's cheek under his empty socket, lapping up the blood both dried and fresh that lingered there.

Ciel grunted in disgust, twisting away. "Don't touch me, you freak! _Sebast –!!_" He broke off, eye wide and chest heaving. Argentine chuckled, releasing Ciel's chin and throwing his own head back to laugh. The twisted sound echoed off the stone walls, chilling Ciel's blood.

"You don't need him?" Argentine whispered as his laughter died down, although ghostly echoes remained to underscore his words. "Without him, you're just a snot-nosed human brat."

With that, Argentine spun around and left, the cell door clanging shut behind him. As he walked up the stairs, he called out to the boy below, "Perhaps he's better off with us anyway, if he had such a pathetic master before."

All the strength drained out of Ciel's legs and he sunk slowly to the floor. _Is Argentine right?_ He wondered, touching his wet cheek and shuddering slightly. _Am I really just a defenceless child? Am I really that weak? What have I been doing these past two years? Have I just been hiding behind Sebastian all this time?_

He had told Sebastian that the demon was to become his power. Ciel hadn't realised until now how literally the demon had taken that. Sebastian was definitely his physical power, able to deal with a thousand things all at once and in minimal time, doing everything the boy asked of him. But what the ash-haired boy understood now was that Sebastian was also his power as the Earl of Phantomhive. Without the demon, he really was just a noble brat that no-one would think to take seriously. Sebastian's unquestioning obedience and his supposed loyalty told others that this boy, however young, was a force to be reckoned with.

All of Ciel's power depended on a demon that was no longer there.

It was not despair or even anger that welled up within him this time, but a bone-deep sadness. _Maybe I was meant to die that day. Maybe I was not meant to be rescued. Who have I been fooling all this time?_

But Ciel Phantomhive was not someone who dwelled in despair; it was his stubborn streak that had gotten him through times before and it was his stubborn streak that reared its head there in the darkness of the dungeon. _I can't dwell on this forever. If there is no-one else to depend on, I'll just have to depend on myself from here on._ They were wrong, all of them. He was _not_ powerless. Sebastian was the mere perception of his power; _his_ power was still his own. The Phantomhive lord bit his lip, thinking hard.

So, Argentine was Von Barrett's butler, just as Sebastian was now Ashford's. Ciel frowned. What was Ashford's role in this, anyway? He was only a baron, one of the lowest ranks of the upper class. The Von Barrett family was from the old nobility, with a great deal of money; he was obviously financing the operation, not to mention giving them connections to the other nobility. Ashford … Phantomhive had never really had opportunity to do business with the Ashfords, but Ciel had a suspicion that they made weaponry. Was that the connection? Still, even if Ashford supplied the weapons, that shouldn't have made him an equal partner in the coup. Ciel was sure that the redhead had another role as well.

There was something else bothering him. He'd only ever heard of this Randall D. Ashford when the old master of the household had died; he'd only recognised the man by the coat of arms that had been on his coat that stormy night. But Ciel was also sure the late Baron Ashford had had no sons to succeed him, indeed no children at all, for they had died with his wife in an accident many years ago.

As Ciel puzzled this over, a voice in the back of his mind whispered, _I don't need him._ Try as he might, Ciel could not decide if it were lying or not.

_oOoOoOoOoOo_

The letters had been delivered with minimal difficulty. When the housekeeper had seen the writing on the envelope and heard that Sebastian had come from Lord Ashford, he had been shown to a room where he'd handed the letter to another young man, who had then given it to the man sitting with his back to the door. Assured the letter had been delivered correctly; Sebastian had left for the big grey house on Pittman Street. The blonde noble was right; it _was_ hard to miss. He didn't make it past the hallway of this house, passing the letter to a middle-aged man. On his way back, Sebastian found himself distracted by the sight of a smoky grey cat lurking in a small side street. It hid at the sight of him at first, but came out when he called softly. Soon it was purring under his hands and rubbing its head against his leg as he crouched down.

"I wonder how _she's_ doing at home," he murmured, mind on another cat that could have been a black twin to this one but for the fact the one under his hands was clearly an underfed stray. The cat turned its head towards his, lamplight eyes shining. "She looks a lot like you. I wonder if she's had her kittens yet?"

A 'merow~' answered him. "Yes, I know … I'm just worried those three might find her, or worse, do something to her …" Images of his cat dyed blue or something equally horrendous passed through his mind, and he shuddered. "Well, when we get home, I'll have to –" He paused. The cat protested as the hand petting it slowed to a standstill.

The Phantomhive manor was no longer 'home'. He could no longer go back there. So why did he feel like that was where he should be?

"– you seen this kid anywhere?"

"Excuse me, sir, would you happen to know –"

Sebastian's eyes widened. Please _let it not be – _He glanced over his shoulder at the street behind and groaned inwardly. _I must be cursed_. Turning back to his companion, he gave her a final pat. "Please forgive me; I'll be back in a moment …"

Standing up, he made his way over to the familiar duo who stood in the middle of the street, hailing those who passed by and thrusting a piece of paper at them. As he got closer, he heard one such one person reply, "I'm sorry, I've never seen that person before." Agni thanked him as he walked off and caught sight of Sebastian. His face brightened immediately and he waved, turning to say something to Sohma beside him. Sebastian was sure he had never met anyone so pleased to see him before. Sohma looked over and upon recognising the butler, dashed across the street to him; leaving Agni to apologise to the people the Prince had bumped into.

It was with some amusement (slightly irritated amusement, to be sure, but since irritation was a normal feeling when dealing with the Indian boy Sebastian just counted it as amusement) that Sebastian watched as Sohma reached him, his happy face at seeing him ("Sebastian!") lasting only a few seconds before it degenerated into a scowl.

"Alright. Where have you been?" the Prince demanded as Agni caught up with them. "And where's Ciel?"

They were starting to attract attention, something the demon didn't want. He gestured to the two Indians and moved over to the side street where he had been only a minute before. Thankfully, they followed without protest. As soon as they had relocated, however, Sohma continued his interrogation. "Do you realise it's been two weeks? You didn't tell us you were going for so long! Agni and I were really worried!"

A peculiar feeling rose in him and was gone just as quickly. _They were worried?_

"Prince Sohma was afraid you had been kidnapped," Agni piped up, grinning in relief that this was not so at the black-clad butler.

Sebastian smiled as though it were a ridiculous notion, though in reality he felt uncomfortable. _I need to get them off this track. If they find out about Ciel they may try to rescue him … it could cause problems for my master._ Although seeing Ciel's face at being rescued by these two would be amusing. The demon wasn't worried at anything they might try against him; he _was_, after all, a demon – even with Agni's blessed right hand, they'd have a hard time beating him.

"Well, not you so much, but I doubt Ciel can look after himself …" Sohma thrust a piece of paper under Sebastian's nose. "I even drew a picture of him to help us find someone who knew where he was!"

Sebastian took the paper and raised an eyebrow at it. It was a crayon drawing that Sohma had helpfully labelled "Little Ciel" with an arrow pointing to it. He supposed he should be thankful for the label; even with his skills, he'd be hard placed to recognise Ciel. _I see Prince Sohma's drawing skills haven't improved since he tried to find Meena._ Still, it was hard not to chuckle as he imagined Ciel's stunned face upon seeing the sketch.

He folded the paper up and stowed it away in his coat. "Hey!" Sohma protested. "We need that, how are we going to find –?"

"You have found me," Sebastian cut in. "Do you think I am not aware of the Young Master's whereabouts?"

When he saw the energetic Indian pause, he continued. "The Young Master came across a rare opportunity in his investigations and is currently working undercover. If you continue to draw attention to his absence, you'll compromise his safety. It is very important to the Young Master that you stop this immediately, so you'll no longer need this picture." _And what a picture it was._ "Do you understand?"

Agni nodded immediately; for all his enthusiasm, Sebastian could at least say the butler was smart (even if he chose not to exercise that trait very often). It was Sohma who was the problem; his mulish streak rivalled Ciel's at times.

After a moment, however, Prince Sohma nodded. "If it's dangerous to Ciel, we'll stop. Make sure you take care of Ciel though, understand?" The teen turned to his butler and pointed up the street, saying, "They had a sweet shop up there! Let's go take a look!" He seemed to suddenly remember something and turned back to Sebastian. "Oh, yeah! I beat Agni in a chess game, so make sure you tell Ciel I look forward to playing him when he gets back!"

As Sohma strode off happily with a "Bye, Sebastian!" and left a bemused Sebastian – _Agni lost on purpose, didn't he?_ – standing there, Agni hesitated. When Sebastian looked at him questioningly, Agni spoke up.

"You always take good care of Ciel, so I have no worries about that, but … as your friend, I ask you, please take care of yourself too. I can see that something is bothering you … If you want to talk, I'll listen."

"Come on, Agni!" Sohma's voice floated back to them. Agni grinned in good bye and hurried after the teen.

"Prince Sohma, please slow down!"

As usual, Sebastian was left standing there bemused, watching them go. He put a hand to his chest absently. An awful, squirming feeling was beginning to wriggle around his heart and stomach, an emotion that he had very little, if any, experience in dealing with.

Guilt. Why did he feel … guilt?

'_You always take good care of Ciel, so I have no worries.'_

'_I doubt Ciel can look after himself … Make sure you take good care of him!'_

As Sohma and Agni's voices echoed in his head, the squirming guilt grew worse, tearing at his insides like a ravenous beast. He slumped against the wall; head tilted back, his eyes closed; one hand resting against his stomach.

_This is ridiculous._ Demons did not trust. Demons did not regret. Demons did not _care_. So why did he feel as though he had betrayed the boy?

His eyes cracked open slightly, a dull red in the afternoon sun. Mewing reached his ears and he glanced down. The smoky grey cat was back, twining around his ankles. With a sigh, he bent down to pick it up and it started purring contentedly as he scratched it gently behind the ears. It was not only their beauty and soft paws he loved … Sebastian admired cats because they served only themselves; they had no need of a master. _Well, demons do not really, either …_ _but just gouging on souls is frowned upon; it lowers your prestige. Besides, even the Elders have realised by now that if we destroy the human race we'd be starving ourselves into eternity._ A wry smile crossed the demon's lips. _One could call the contract process 'rationing', in a way…_

"You are lucky you have no master to worry about," Sebastian told the purring cat in his arms. He pulled out his pocket watch, wondering if he was now behind schedule. Sunlight glinted off the casing and made golden patterns dance and swirl on the bricks beside him, enticing the cat to reach out and bat at them. Checking the time quickly, the demon squinted up at the sky. _The sunlight is very bright today … I wonder – _His eyes widened.

'_Argentine can't deliver it today.'_

'_I haven't been injured by a demon for a long time.'_

'_Two puncture marks right here, on the neck.'_

_I'm a fool._ Sebastian closed his eyes, resting his face in his free hand. _Or else I really am losing my touch. _Neither option really appealed to him, but _how _could he have missed all the signs? Sebastian ground his teeth in annoyance at himself for not figuring it out sooner. If _that_ was what he was dealing with … Still, Sebastian was a being who would face down God if he had to; someone like Argentine, despite the stories, was no different.

_Despite the stories …_

A shadow passed across the crimson eyes, turning them a red so dark it was almost black, and a shiver ran down his spine despite the glaring sunlight. _The sooner I finish this, the better._ Pain flared in his chest suddenly like a bolt of lightning. He glanced down and caught sight of the contract seal shining faintly through his glove and frowned.

"Forgive me, but it's time for me to return," he told the stray, placing her gently on the ground. It wasn't a proper summons; it felt more like the contract had been activated by accident. When no second warning came, he relaxed slightly. _In any case, I should make haste._ Giving the cat one last pat ("I shall come and find you when I am next in London, is that permissible?") the demon spun on his heel and disappeared into the stream of people, leaving the feline mewing in confusion as she looked for her new friend.

The butler strode through the crowd at an incredible pace, dodging other by-passers with ease though his mind was elsewhere. Something had felt … odd about that call. Furthermore, why could he still not properly sense the soul he was linked to? All he knew was that he _was_ still linked to a soul that bore his mark; the link itself felt … cloudy, if that were possible. His master had kept the same contract as Ciel, so –

A new thought occurred to him. His former master's contract was to last "until I reach my goal" as the boy had said. Since Lord Ashford had the same conditions, their contract was finished once the coup was successful. A hungry glint lit the claret eyes. _I wonder if my master realises this yet?_

Laughter escaped him, drawing a few odd looks from those in the crowd around him, but the demon no longer cared. The sooner he could return home and escape this burning, guilty feeling plaguing him, the better.

_oOoOoOoOoOo_

The first thing that Sebastian noticed upon entering the dungeon where Ciel was being kept was that all the torches had blown out, leaving the room in pitch darkness. _That's strange …_ He took the first one down and examined it, balancing the tray of food on the other hand. Red eyes gleamed in the darkness. _This should have burnt for longer …_

He continued down the stairs, the flames reigniting as he went past. Eyes that saw with perfect vision even in the gloom peered into the boy's cell. Ciel was still there, eyes closed as he slumped on the floor. _Is the boy asleep?_ Sebastian wondered, examining him. _No, his breathing is wrong. So he's only pretending to sleep …_

With a wave of his hand, Sebastian re-lit the candles on the wall, letting light wash across the floor of the cell. Shadows shrunk away, but the dappled bruises on Ciel's skin showed all the more clearly.

The demon set down the tray he held nearby and picked up the old one; it was empty. That was a good sign: Sebastian hadn't really wanted to force feed the boy to make sure he ate.

Sebastian had turned to go, feeling uncomfortable and irritated at his discomfort when a voice interrupted him. "Sebastian."

The demon paused. _That's the first time I've heard him speak since … _He schooled his face to stillness, the best poker face he could put on, and looked over his shoulder. "Yes, Ciel?" he said carefully. He couldn't afford to slip up and call him 'Young Master'.

The sound of his own name seemed to hit Ciel so hard he flinched. Sebastian had _never_ called him by his name in all the time he had been with the demon. _Still, I should have expected it since he no longer sees me as his master,_ Ciel thought bitterly. He had never fully appreciated how _tall_ the demon actually was, Ciel realised as he stared up at Sebastian.

Some of the old pride, the old game of dominance sparked within him, and Ciel scrambled to his feet, determined to at least close some of the height difference between them and challenge the demon. Perhaps Sebastian recognised this, for he turned around completely to face him, a hint of the familiar mocking smile about his lips. Their gazes remained locked, neither wanting to back down. Sebastian's face was unreadable, as always – Ciel wished he knew what the demon was thinking.

In fact, a small wave of relief had washed over Sebastian at Ciel's actions. _It is good to know that his spirit has not completely been broken_. The defiant spirit that had first caught the demon's attention; the one that had drawn him from his place in the underworld was still there. He saw that Ciel hadn't thought of what to say next, so the demon decided to end the silence on his terms.

"So –" he almost had to bite his tongue to avoid saying 'Young Master', "I noticed that all the lights had gone out down here. Do you happen to know why that is?"

"Argentine was down here earlier," Ciel replied, raising his chin stubbornly. "To talk to me."

"Argentine was here?" Sebastian repeated in shock. His master's voice echoed in his head. '_Never, ever let Argentine get _near_ that brat.'_ Sebastian's own instinct was to keep Ciel away from the man, even before he had known what he was. "What did he do?"

"What do you care?" Ciel retorted bitterly.

Sebastian stared at him, an odd expression passing over his features so fast that Ciel was sure he had imagined it. "I don't," the butler replied at last. Ciel was taken aback when the demon's fingers lifted his chin, turning his face to inspect it.

_As expected…_ Sebastian thought, noticing at once the lack of blood on the boy's cheek. The tear tracks visible through blood and grime sparked that uncomfortable churning again, though it was not his problem if the boy cried. Not his problem. He tilted Ciel's head up and was relieved to find no bite marks on his throat.

Ciel jerked out of his grip angrily, surprising the butler. For a split second it had felt like they were back at the manor house, master and butler once more. "Don't touch me!"

Another crimson stare was fixed upon him. "As you wish," Sebastian said, dropping his hand. "I have a question for you. Who is Clarence Darlington?"

Ciel stared at him, surprised. "Why should I tell you?"

One of the demon's gloved hands shot out, slamming him against the wall. Ciel cried out in pain as his wounded body was jarred, the hand remaining on his collar bone to pin him to the wall. Sebastian leaned close, his eyes shining with that demonic light. "You seem to be forgetting who I am, boy."

"A traitor?" Ciel spat back. If he was going to die, the demon should hurry up before Ciel's courage failed him.

"Your jailor. You are a prisoner, Young Master – talk, or I shall make you." A grin stretched the demon's lips, displaying sharp teeth which he used to tug on his other glove to straighten it. "You know enough about my methods to know how."

Ciel stared up into Sebastian's crimson eyes, devoid of any kind of human emotion but the desire to hurt and an intense hunger. He had seen that gaze so often in the past, but it was always from beside Sebastian as he watched some other unfortunate's fate. Now he was facing that terrifying gaze he had only seen this close the day they had met – staring up into that smirking face, and even then the promise of pain was for the scum around them, not his master. Something had been odd about Sebastian's words just then, but the young noble was too frozen in fascinated horror by that gaze and could not place it.

"Clarence Darlington … Viscount Darlington?" Ciel finally said. "As far as I know, he's fairly high-ranking in the British army… How did you hear of him? We never did any business with them."

"He is Lord Ashford's friend from military training, apparently," Sebastian replied, his eyes losing that dangerous shine. The weight pressing on Ciel's chest lifted as Sebastian reclaimed his hand and rubbed it.

Ciel frowned, thinking. _The Ashford family makes weapons … and Randall Ashford has a friend in the army … _"That's it!" he exclaimed suddenly, coughing as his dry throat protested at being used so much after such a long time.

"What do you mean?"

"It makes sense … Von Barrett has the money and links amongst the nobility … but they'd need the support of the military, too – that's Ashford's job! He has connections to people in high ranks in the army, and supplies the weapons!" Ciel's eye was wide as he considered this.

"But that means their plan is rather well-thought out," Sebastian mused.

"Yes, more than I'd expected … They must be further along in their plan than I first thought. I have to warn Scotland Yard, and the Queen! It's now even more of a danger to her. Sebastian, go and –"

"– and what, Young Master? I am no longer yours to command so easily," the demon said, raising an eyebrow at him. "Thank you for answering my question. That is all." He bent down to pick up the tray he had dropped earlier.

"Why are you still calling me Young Master, then?" Ciel challenged. He saw shock in Sebastian's eyes as the demon glanced up at him, clearly startled. _Did he even realise what he was doing? Why_ is _Sebastian still calling me that?_

Sebastian's false smile was back in an instant as he straightened swiftly. "Just habit. My mistake."

"I thought you didn't make mistakes," Ciel called after the departing demon.

Sebastian glanced backwards. "Do not presume, _Ciel_. Something once lost –"

"Will never return," the boy finished, eyes narrowed. "I know."

"It is best you remember that." The demon felt the piercing blue stare on him as he disappeared out the door. _And it is best that I remember it too._

He strode down the hallways with his mind whirling in confusion. It had seemed so natural to fall back into their routine of figuring things out; it had truly seemed like nothing had changed. _As I would have expected of the Phantomhive lord to put the information together so quickly._

Sebastian was so lost in thought that he only vaguely noticed a door open further up the hallway and a dark shape walk out. He did, however, notice when the newcomer spoke.

"Well, if it isn't the demon …"

Sebastian's head snapped up, suddenly alert. _Argentine …_ His red eyes narrowed.

Pale blue blinked innocently back at him. "Do I sense a sudden increase in your animosity towards me, Sebastian? What ever did I do to deserve such a thing?"

"What were you doing with the Youn – with Ciel?" Sebastian demanded.

"What would I want with a human brat?" Argentine retorted, raising an eyebrow. "I can think of better things to do with my time …"

"My master won't be pleased to learn a _vampire_ was with his prisoner," Sebastian snapped. "Did you bite the boy?"

Argentine burst out laughing. "Ha! Ginger's terrified of me; he can whine all he wants but he won't do anything." His gaze settled back on the demon and his smirk widened in satisfaction, fangs glistening sinisterly. A pleased light lurked in the ice-blue eyes. "So, you know my secret, hm? I was wondering when you'd figure it out … and I thought demons were supposed to be _clever_ …"

"I wasn't expecting to have the bad luck to run into one." Sebastian's eyes narrowed once again. "I thought that most of your kind was destroyed in the Purge over a century ago."

"_Most_, demon, not all … Some of us managed to avoid detection when the humans tried to wipe us out … Still, it matters not now." Argentine shrugged and suddenly leapt at him out of the blue. Sebastian jerked backwards, but Argentine moved faster and had the element of surprise, grabbing Sebastian and slamming him against the wall. The demon struggled, but somehow Argentine had managed to twist one of his arms around behind him so that it was pinned between his back and the wall; the other was pressed against the wall near his head so they looked like they were doing a mockery of a dance.

Even as they struggled, Sebastian felt that peculiar tiredness that he had felt twice now in the vampire's presence before, as though his entire body had become heavy and immobile while the strength drained out of him. His eyelids fluttered once, twice as he fought off the suffocating tiredness that tried to envelop him.

"Just to reassure you, demon, you need not worry I harmed the boy," Argentine murmured, his voice a low purr. He seemed to enjoy watching Sebastian's efforts to remain awake, if his sardonic smile was any indication. "I can see why you chose him." A long claw stretched out and grazed a line across the demon's cheekbone. Blood began to bead along the cut, blood welling up and threatening to slide down the demon's pale face. "I may find some use for him –"

"_The boy's soul is MINE_!" Sebastian hissed, throwing his weight forward in an attempt to get free. Caught off guard, it was a moment before Argentine shoved him back against the wall. The demon's eyes were a furious, burning crimson, the demonic gleam making them glow brightly even in the well-lit corridor. His teeth were bared in anger, far sharper than any human's teeth should be – Argentine realised with a start that the demon had started to revert back to his true form once more. _This should be interesting …_

"Not anymore," the vampire told him calmly, watching the fury and frustration rise in the crimson gaze. "Still, what use have I for a soul? You can have whatever is left of the brat when I'm done." Sebastian growled deep in his throat, a tiger's growl warning other creatures off its territory. Argentine smiled once again. "No? Well, you'll just have to be his substitute then. I did warn you earlier this morning …" The blood along the demon's wound finally spilled over, the enticing tangy smell calling to the vampire's senses.

Sebastian recoiled in disgust as the vampire leant forward and licked the crimson trickle flowing down his cheek. "Hm~" Argentine hummed softly. "I've been waiting to do that." _Ever since I found out there was a demon in this city._

He needed more time to escape. _I need to distract him._ "So you _were_ the one behind all of those attacks." _I should have realised that when we first met the Undertaker … but I was so sure they no longer existed. So foolish … I'm becoming as weak and pathetic as a human._

"Yes," Argentine drawled, watching as the scratch on Sebastian's face healed before his eyes. _A minor injury like that would heal very fast._ "They weren't very filling at all, I must admit. But humans are such easy prey … as a demon, you should know what I mean."

"The one thing that puzzles me," Sebastian said calmly, as though he were not trapped between a wall and a vampire, "is that none of them fought back …"

"You should know your history better, demon. Vampires can create a paralysing aura in a small area around themselves. I expect you can feel its effect now, actually …" Sebastian could see Argentine's teeth glistening with blood, _his_ blood. "It's pointless to fight it … though I must say you've done a good job so far."

"Why … come after me?" Sebastian forced the words out. It was becoming difficult to breathe.

"Well, Ginger _was_ looking for a skilled butler, since I teamed up with Vincent … they decided on you after I mentioned I'd felt the presence of a demon in town. It's so _easy_ to manipulate humans, don't you agree? It makes it hard to have any respect for them … Of course, I wanted a demon nearby for my own reasons." Argentine ran his tongue over his bottom lip. "Human blood is good, but a demon's blood has the sweetest taste of all."

Sebastian tried to lean backwards to get away from the vampire's stench only to hit his head against the wall. In a way, he found the man more repulsive than Grell, and Sebastian had though that was a hard standard to beat.

Argentine leaned closer, until his nose was almost touching Sebastian's. "Are you scared, demon? My kind learnt how to subjugate yours long ago … though you were harder prey than humans, I admit."

He wasn't scared, precisely … but there was a decided uneasiness churning in his stomach that could well be described as fear. Sebastian had never run across a vampire before in his exceptionally long lifetime, but he had stories of them. None of the stories of them had indicated any kind of good relations between the two beings.

It had not been a problem in the beginning, for demons had vastly outnumbered the vampires who walked the human world. They were too small in number to affect the demon's prey, and had no souls of their own to be worthy of _being_ prey.

However, their numbers had grown until they became a threat. Whether demon or vampire, the best prey was always the same: humans. It had descended into violence, the way things always did when both sides were bloodthirsty. Sebastian had heard of unfortunate demons that had fallen into vampire hands, becoming little more than pets for their amusement and their blood.

Suddenly, the humans themselves had ended the fight with their Purge; a world-wide frenzy of killing anything that resembled a vampire, whether the victim was innocent or not. From their place in Hell, demons had watched the downfall of their enemy with satisfaction and feasted on the innocent souls that had suffered in the carnage.

Then the vampires were gone, leaving only stories and a remembered animosity behind.

Was Sebastian Michaelis afraid?

Probably.

At the very least, he had to admit he was worried. This was a case more serious than any human mafia or Reaper he had faced so far since his summons this time around. _If only I could break through this paralysis_ … _I'd be able to deal with him. _Crimson eyes flashed in anger.

"I grow tired of this conversation," Argentine said, yawning slightly so that his fangs were clearly visible. "Is there anything else you'd like to say?" A growl was the only reply. "In that case …"

The vampire stretched out a finger to yank Sebastian's collar open in order to reach his neck, enjoying the rage and disbelief – _was that a spark of fear? – _in the demon's eyes. Sebastian tried to struggle uselessly, but he had been caught up in the paralysing aura for far too long. His eyes widened as fangs sunk into his flesh, biting deeply and releasing pain that ripped through his body and he jerked forward, his hand twitching in Argentine's grip.

A long hiss escaped him as Argentine began to drink. He was so tired …. Sleep beckoned as he felt the energy drain out of his body along with his lifeblood. His eyes were no longer crimson but a dull greyish red which was slowly hidden as his eyelids fluttered shut.

Feeling the demon slump against him, unconscious, the vampire began to feast.

_oOoOoOoOoOo_

END CHAPTER 3

_oOoOoOoOoOo_

A/N: Well, there we go ^^;; Congrats on making it this far!

Argentine is kinda creepy ." and somehow even the cat made it into this chapter XD

Ah, I should probably also say thank you to the people who voted in my poll ^^b It's a relief that nobody finds the chapters too long and tedious ^^;; That said, it does take a while to write them, so thank you everyone for your patience :bows:

Thank you for reading - I hope you enjoyed this chapter~!\(^o^)/

_Now that Argentine's true colours have been revealed, what will happen to Sebastian? And with his former butler the latest victim of the vampire, what will Ciel do? Find out in the next chapter (currently in-progress):_ That Butler, Perception_!_


	4. That Butler, Perception

Hello~! First of all, thank you to all of you for your patience ^^ I got caught up in doing other things... and somehow it became March without my realising it (which is actually kind of scary, when I think about it O_O") But I'm pleased to give you the next chapter of FN~!

Warnings: Well, it's obviously not a problem if you've come this far (^^;) but it's set after the Indian arc, so it refers to characters/events that have happened before then~ It's also an extremely long chapter (-_-)"

Disclaimer: Kuroshitsuji is the property of Toboso-sensei; I don't own it. On the other hand, Randall, Vincent and Argentine are mine ... although I must say I do not agree with their plans for a coup. Also, I don't own the quote at the start... I found it ages ago and I don't know who to credit ...

Author Ramblings: A big heartfelt "Thank You!!" to everyone who reviewed~! (^o^)/ I always appreciate your words :D I'm terribly sorry that it took me a while to reply to most of you (-/\-) I'm trying to do better this time around... Thank you also to the people who have favourited/alerted this story~! And naturally, thank you once again to my beta, Ryouta, who takes the time to read my incredibly long rambling stories and help fix my mistakes ^^

Lol wow, people really hate Argentine O.o I suppose that's good, actually ^^"  
Argentine: There's one person who likes me!  
Sebastian: Yes, and everyone else is hoping you die, so go and oblige them, please.

Anyway, enough of my rambling. Hope you enjoy the story~ (^_^)b Thank you for reading~

_**oOoOoOoOoOo**_

**Chapter 4**

**In the Evening: That Butler, Perception**

_The world is dyed with the colour of blood  
It will never be able to go back to the way it was before_

_- Unknown_

_oOoOoOoOoOo_

Sebastian floated in darkness.

_Where am I?_

It was a strange place, unlike anything he had ever seen in the human's world or his own: a black void that seemed to stretch into eternity, so dark that even his pitch black hair paled against it. There was no point of reference to tell him which way was up, which way was down; he had no way of telling if his eyes were open or closed, because it all looked the same. _If I were human_, he mused absentmindedly, _this place would surely drive me insane_. Sebastian didn't particularly feel like testing the theory on a demon like himself. _Best to find a way out of here, then find Argentine and kill him._

A flicker of anger at the vampire's name pulsed around the void, surrounding him but somehow not affecting him. _As though it belonged to someone else_. Before he had time to dwell of this strange sensation of feeling his emotions outside of himself, a glimmer of light in the corner of his eye drew the demon's attention. Red eyes flicked sideways.

The glimmer stretched and became a long streamer of light that shimmered with a multitude of colours, like oil in the rain, so that Sebastian couldn't pinpoint its true colour amid the constantly shifting hues. It flowed past him slowly, drifting upwards – or was it the other way around, and it was he who was drifting 'downwards'?

Sebastian twisted, trying to see if there were more of them. A slight hiss escaped him as his neck twinged in pain. Fingers ran across the skin, finding it unbroken and whole. He frowned. _This place is no part of reality, then._

Was it a dream?

No; demons rarely dreamt, and on the few occasions that they did, it was only to reflect their deepest desire. Sebastian was fairly sure he had never expressed a desire to find himself in an endless abyss.

Colour flashed, drawing his attention once again. The ribbon of light called to him silently and Sebastian found himself stretching out a hand towards it. He hesitated a moment. Was touching it a trap? It was the only thing other than himself in this eternal darkness. _Perhaps it is the way out of here. In any case, I do not really see any other options at the moment._ The tips of his fingers brushed the light and it flashed around him, filling his body with warmth.

_Sapphire eyes rose to meet his own, vulnerability and fear flickering in them quietly. _

"_You wouldn't ever leave me, would you, Sebastian?" Ciel's voice was quiet. Surprise flashed through him, but it seemed the boy already regretted his words, his gaze shifting down to the side. "… Never mind."_

_A faint smile and a bow. His own voice. "As I have said, I will follow you wherever you go; stay by your side even to the depths of hell if that's what it takes. Never fear."_

Sebastian yanked his hand back from the light, his eyes wide with shock. The streamer continued to float past him, unconcerned, like a bubble rising to meet the surface. _Memories …?_

_So, this place is like Grell's 'Cinematic Record', is it?_ Sebastian searched the darkness and found more streamers around him, twisting, rippling and undulating as the void around them tried to swallow their light. At least here there was no annoying Death God here trying to cut him to pieces with declarations of love. Sebastian shuddered at the thought. _I suppose that's one thing to be thankful for._

He avoided another ribbon as it floated past, a myriad of rainbows rippling along its length. For a moment, it was like peering through a glazed window, the figures beyond it mere shapes and suggestions. Sebastian tore his gaze away quickly before it could be drawn in once again. He didn't want to …

'_You wouldn't ever leave me, would you?'_

Ciel's voice echoed in his ears, fanning the spark of guilt within him into a roaring flame.

'_You promised you'd never leave me! You promised you'd be the one to never betray me, to always be by my side! SEBASTIAN!'_

'_Even to the depths of hell, if that is what it takes… Unlike humans, I do not lie.'_

Sebastian shook his head, trying to rid himself of such memories. Did _I lie?_ he wondered. Did_ I betray him?_ Guilt twisted inside him, making the darkness around him shift. _It seemed like the right choice at the time, but … if Ciel is not my master, then why do I feel pain at the idea of abandoning him?_

_Why do I regret it?_

Crimson eyes opened wide as he realised what he'd said. _Regret? _Demons did not did not care about anything enough to feel remorse at losing it.

_Ciel is no longer the bearer of our contract,_ he argued silently, though to whom he did not know. _There is no way I could have betrayed him, except in a human sense. I serve the contract bearer, no matter who it is._

Voices echoed around the empty space, murmuring quietly as they wove through the sparkling threads of light; each word fed the fire of guilt within him. Colours flashed around him, flickering in time with every sound, every voice. Ciel. Madam Red. Himself.

'_Never lie to me, ever!'_

'_Was the thought of killing the Madam yourself … scary?'_

'_It was because that was your job. I thought that even if you died you would protect me. That is why I didn't fire.'_

_I did not protect the Young Master this time. _

'_Don't let him lose his way; don't let him become lost on his own. Don't ever leave his side.'_

_I did not stay by his side._

Sebastian closed his eyes, trying to block everything out. Confusion coiled within as it had never before in his long life; nothing like this had ever happened to him, indeed anyone he knew, before. He had acted in the interest of the contract, surely? The contract was what mattered. Ciel no longer possessed it; Ashford did. Ashford was his master.

Wasn't he?

Then why didn't it _feel_ right?

_Why do I regret it? Why do I feel guilty at the thought of him?_

As the demon pondered the question, another ribbon of light coiled around him. He held out his hand and it twined around his fingers, like the way his cat back at the mansion had loved to twine between his feet. A faint smile curved Sebastian's lips in remembrance, his hand closing around the memory it held and making it shine brightly. _Let's see where this one takes me, shall we?_

'_Oh? Well, aren't you a very small master …'_

_Darkness. Amusement. Surprise._

'_You have summoned me. This fact will not change for eternity. What has been will never be returned. Now … choose.'_

_Desperation. Small hands grasping at a thread of silk._

'_This is an order! KILL THEM!!'_

_Bloodlust. Screams. Laughter._

Sebastian's eyes flickered open and found himself within the memory itself rather than looking in from the outside. Runes and lines etched a summons into the ground beneath his feet, providing channels for the blood that trickled through them. The metallic tang of blood and the stench of torn flesh assaulted his senses as he took in the mangled and shredded bodies littering the floor and stands. He could help but smirk slightly in satisfaction at his own handiwork. It seemed his memory-self was also pleased, wearing an identical smirk. Sebastian crossed over to his other self, realising that he was merely a watcher in this scene, unable to do anything. He looked down at the small bundle at his feet, his past words echoing in his ears.

_Such a small master._

A young boy pushed himself off the floor with a trembling hand, the other pressed tightly to his right eye as blood leaked through the pale fingers. The left eye gazed upwards in fascinated horror, flinching backwards as a clawed hand was spread towards him. The ragged shirt he wore – barely more than rags – was bloodstained, unbuttoned all the way to display a thin chest painted in the red liquid. There was no more than a spark of fear in the dark sapphire gaze, the only thing that seemed alive in that small fire. It was as though the majority of the boy's fear had drained out of him along with his lifeblood. Small and vulnerable; a mere child. Sebastian raised an eyebrow, remembering feeling almost insulted that _this_ had what had been used to summon him. The only thing that had redeemed the situation was the boy's soul, which shone with such strength it had surprised him immensely.

'_I have done as you ordered, master. Our contract is in exchange for your soul; name your terms and I will obey.'_

Why had he offered this boy a contract in the first place?

_The first reason,_ he thought as he watched the memory with one eye, _was probably the boy's soul. Such a powerful soul for such a young boy … How much stronger would his soul grow?_ He had wanted to find out. _I would do anything to obtain it._ The conviction of his own thoughts had shaken him.

Ciel's voice, despite being broken and raw from screaming and pleading and barely above a whisper, still managed to hold a derisive note. '_Should you not name terms _before_ you even claim a contract?_'

The boy's defiance amused the demon. His own entertainment was the second reason behind his offer. It amused him to watch the sacrifice, the victim leap for that thin hope he dangled before them, to take revenge on those who had hurt them. Anger, hate, desperation – this kid was no different in that respect.

A smile revealed pointed teeth, making the bloodstained boy shift backwards slightly, still staring up at the memory-Sebastian. _Not that my name was Sebastian, then._ _I wonder how he sees me?_ Sebastian wondered, ignoring whatever reply his past self gave. His fingers brushed against the side of Ciel's face and the world dissolved into black mist. Their voices swirled around the space, rising and ebbing like an invisible tide.

'_Until I achieve my goal, you will become my power and protect me, so that I am not killed. In exchange, I will give you my soul when it is over.'_

_Determination._

'_Without your soul, you can never pass through the gates of Heaven. Are you certain?'_

_Muted fear._

'_Shut up and make our contact! Now!_

_The demon's amusement. 'As you wish, small one.'_

Sebastian felt Ciel's pain ripple across the void as his past self kissed the boy's marked eye gently, the demon's touch making the boy shiver as it burnt white-hot and ice-cold at the same time. Sebastian could feel the boy's emotions within him as clearly as if they were plainly written before him, and what he felt surprised him. Amid the pain and desperation, the battle between hatred and sorrow, a pure thread of emotion was intertwined with pulsing fear. Hope. Safety.

_Safety?_

The memory released him, the ribbon of light swirling past his feet. Now he _was_ falling; he could feel it, even if he couldn't see it. _But where will I land?_

Why had that memory returned to him? It had been over two years since that night; he didn't think he had changed much in that time. Yet somehow, without him noticing, he had. The demon's initial wish had been to corrupt the boy's soul, to drag him into a hell-like existence on earth before consuming with him. It was always more interesting to play with his food before eating it; twisting a pure, powerful soul into a darker existence would provide entertainment while he waited. Somewhere along the line, that wish had changed. He recognised the strength of will the boy possessed, a boy who stood on his own two feet and declared, "The head of the Phantomhive house is me!"

A soul that would defy the world.

For the first time in his existence, Sebastian had come to feel something akin to admiration for a human. He wanted to see him face his enemies, his own darkness, the world.

But Ciel was also vulnerable; the child breaking through at times the adult persona he had built for himself, the mask he hid behind. A boy who told him, _stay there until I fall asleep_ because he didn't want to be left alone in the darkness; a boy who asked quietly, _you wouldn't ever leave me, would you?_ because he feared being alone in the daylight. A boy who feared being set adrift alone in the high seas. Sebastian wanted to protect the boy, light the way through the darkness for him, all the while telling himself that it was just the way to fulfil their contract. It was not that he had changed his mind, or that he didn't want to consume the boy's soul. It was that he was more content now to wait and see what Ciel would achieve.

_If I do not wish to lose sight of him, why have I abandoned him, then? If I do not care, why do I feel as though I betrayed him? _Sebastian wondered. _Why do I feel as though my place is by his side, not Ashford's? _The demon had done what he was supposed to. He had followed the rules of the contract.

'_Unfortunately, in reality there is no situation where we can win merely by following the rules.' _Ciel's voice echoed around him. _'There will be knights that break the rules and even chess pieces who will betray their master … In order to maintain the balance in this game, I too must break the rules in order to win, no?'_

_By merely following rules …_ Sebastian frowned, thinking. It was true that the letter of the contract set down in ages past was to 'obey the wishes of the contract holder' – the one bearing the demon's mark and in exchange, the demon obtained the contract bearer's soul.

Ciel no longer held that mark; Ashford had taken both the eye and the contract seal. Therefore, he was technically the contract bearer, the one to obey.

_But I made that contract with the Young Master, not Ashford. I marked his soul as mine, not Ashford's. Ashford stole it. _If the letter of the contract was to obey Ashford, then was not the spirit of the contract to one his first master, the original contract bearer?

_And sometimes,_ Sebastian mused,_ the spirit of the matter is more important than the letter._

A sigh escaped him. Even if Ciel was the true contract holder, Sebastian very much doubted the boy would accept him back. And what if he was wrong this time? If he turned his back on his 'master' once again, it would put the entire contract at risk. _But it could be at risk anyway … it is only chance that has allowed out contract to remain unbroken._ He could not deny the strange feeling that he was supposed to obey Ciel. But why risk the contract? He would gain a soul soon anyway, once Ashford's plan was finished. Sebastian did not want to lose this contract.

Randall or Ciel?

He had to decide.

Sebastian sighed again. _Why is that brat always causing me trouble?_

_oOoOoOoOoOo_

A cascading melody filled the room as Randall's fingers danced over the black and white keys. They moved seamlessly from one colour to another with only a few hesitations as their owner swayed in time to his playing, eyes closed. Fading sunlight filtered through the window beside the piano as evening began to sweep across the sky.

The music flowed over the other two figures in the room. Von Barrett sat in a large and comfortable armchair, absorbed in a thick book, while Argentine reclined on a nearby lounge, flicking idly through a book before adding it to the pile of discarded books on the floor beside him.

Abruptly, the peaceful music erupted into a loud cacophony of chaotic noise as the red-headed noble angrily slammed his hands down on the keys, standing swiftly and knocking over his seat in the process. His blond friend looked up, eyebrow raised questioningly. The action failed to catch the attention of the vampire, though a small glint of mischief twitched the corner of his mouth upwards.

Randall's furious glare was directed at Argentine, anger visible even from across the room. "What in the name of God _possessed_ you to do that?!"

Pale blue eyes flicked towards the noble, a mask of innocence dropping over the vampire's face. "Do what, precisely?" Argentine's attention had returned to the book in his hands before the words had even finished leaving his mouth.

"Damn you, _vampire_! You bit him!" Randall spat, hands tightening on the piano which let out a few mournful notes in agreement. "I specifically told you –"

The book was snapped shut as Argentine sat up. A cold light burned in the depths of his eyes as he bared his fangs. "Would you prefer I bit _you_, Ginger?"

Randall flinched visibly, fear flickering in his eyes for a brief moment before he regained control. Von Barrett looked up from his volume once again, this time with a slight frown directed at the dark-haired creature. "_Argentine_," he said warningly.

"You won't touch me, you freak." Randall growled. "And as for the demon, he is _my_ butler and I did not give you permission to drain him! What if he dies? What if he becomes one of _you_? You've compromised an entire section of our – _Argh!_" Randall clutched at his right eye as it throbbed, sending burning pain through his head.

"Randall, what's wrong?" Von Barrett asked him in alarm, starting forward. As he drew closer, his red-head friend hunched over with one hand clasped to his face. Von Barrett could see light shining through his fingers. "Look at me."

The copper-haired noble looked up slowly, green eye wide with pain, face pale with shock. His other eye was covered by his hand, which the blonde gently pulled away. He frowned.

It gleamed with an internal light; the lines of the contract seal in Randall's stolen eye blazing as though he had just issued a command. Then, as abruptly as it started, the light winked out. Tension drained out of Randall's body as the noble blinked rapidly, his hand rising to touch his eyelid gently and wincing.

Von Barrett didn't like surprises, especially those that he did not understand. "Sit down, Randall. I'll check your eye over." He guided Randall over to an empty seat.

"Yes, Doctor Vinny," the red-head mumbled as Von Barrett rummaged through the doctor's kit he kept with him in case of emergencies, pulling out a small flashlight.

"Don't call me that," the blond replied automatically, tilting Randall's head back to peer at the eye. It was difficult to tell if something was wrong with it, for the seal covered the iris completely and there was no pupil. The white part of his eye was slightly bloodshot, but it was fading even as he tilted the flashlight to a different angle. Randall's eye was beginning to water from the intensity of the light, so Von Barrett switched it off and stepped back. "I cannot see anything abnormal about it. What happened?"

"I – I don't know. All of a sudden it felt like my eye was on fire." Randall touched his closed eyelid gently beneath the screen of his fringe. "It's stopped now."

A new set of boots entered his line of vision and the red-head glanced up, recoiling back as he found himself face to face with Argentine. The vampire's eyes glinted as they narrowed at the noble in front of them.

"I'll tell _you_, Ginger. My agreement isn't with you, so you have no authority over me. The demon won't die – I left him enough blood to survive and regenerate what was lost. We learnt that much a long time ago …" A slight glaze came over the blue eyes as they stared into the past. Then abruptly, Argentine blinked, breaking out of the memory. "You seem remarkably ignorant when it comes to the abilities of both my kind _and_ demons. Demons cannot be 'turned' like humans because they are immune to the effect of our bite … or it could just be that they already possess our blood thirst."

Randall stared transfixed into those pale eyes; he could see his reflection, so weak, so small, in that pitiless gaze. So absorbed was the red-head noble that he failed to flinch when Argentine brushed his fringe to the side and held it there with a clawed hand. The vampire looked down at the exposed eye and the seal it contained. _A thing of much power …_ He snorted inwardly. _Naturally, a demon would not collar himself for less._ "If you are worried he will betray us because of what I did, think again. He would not dare to break his contract."

The pale hand dropped from Randall's face. Argentine straightened. "Well," he said airily, half-shrugging, "If you complain so much when I bite the demon, why not give me the brat?"

Randall broke out of his daze and stared at Argentine, incredulity widening his eyes. "What?"

"I mean, he's just taking up space in Vincent's dungeon …surely he's just a bother to you?" Argentine's voice was still innocent.

"Spare me the false concern, Argentine," the copper-haired noble said coldly. "The brat is to remain unharmed – you know why that is!" Randall's voice was rising in volume as he pointed at the vampire. "And yet you still try to lay hands on him! You swore to us at the start you would not touch him, by the honour of your noble house, _vampire_ – or were you just lying when you told us that? Your house no longer exists, isn't that so?"

"I may be the only one of the Voltaire family to have woken and be walking the earth once more," Argentine growled, anger for once showing in his face at the nobleman's barb, "but that does not mean my house no longer exists, or that it has lost its honour." Within a second of his loss of control, the mask was back in place; his lips twitched into a mocking smirk although the hard glint of anger still smouldered in his gaze. "Are you sure that you just aren't afraid of your own mortality?"

Randall growled softly and dropped back down in his chair. When he spoke, a controlled patience kept his voice calm. "Argentine. We need the boy alive, as you know, because while he lives it is _his_ soul linked into the contract, not mine. Should he die, either the contract would end – which we don't want – or the contract would look for something else bearing its mark and place _my_ soul into pawn – which we don't want. This way, with the boy alive, his soul acts as a substitute for my own." He held up a hand to forestall Argentine, who was on the verge of retorting. "Also, if you bite him, he _will_ become a vampire – if he doesn't die – and therefore have no soul, leading to the problems I already mentioned. _That_ is why I want you to stay away from him."

Argentine 'tch'ed. "You're no fun." He spun on his heel and walked out of the room with a rustle of cloth.

Green and blue eyes watched him go. After a few seconds of silence, Randall propped his arm up on the arm of his chair and rested his chin on his hand. "He's getting dangerous, Vincent," he murmured softly.

Von Barrett's murmur was equally quiet. "I can handle it. We still need him."

"I know." Randall sighed and rubbed his eyes tiredly, ignoring the dull pain that fizzed briefly across the stolen eyeball as he did so. He glanced up at his friend out of the corner of his eye. "Thank you for your support there."

The corner of the blonde's mouth turned upwards at the dry tone. "You need to learn to handle such situations for the future. I wanted to see you deal with it."

"Hmph." Randall watched as Vincent took a seat across from him and opened the heavy book he had been reading before. "With Clarence on our side, I'd say we have at least half the army; if we give him time, he can increase that number."

"Why so optimistic?" Vincent didn't look up from his book as he turned a page.

"Clarence has many friends in the army, noble and commoner; he has his subordinate's loyalty, because he has a good command. A lot of people owe him favours too, which will help. Still, we can't be sure of anything. 'Better to hope for the best and plan for the worst', as they say." Randall shrugged.

"Any more news on Whitehall?"

"No. No-one's let a word get out yet." The red-head leaned back around the lounge, arms resting along the top. "I am dancing with Death, Vinny."

"Do we not _all_ court death?" Vincent replied. When his friend didn't reply, he finally raised his eyes and watched as Randall fingered his eyelid gingerly.

"Yes … I have met him many times on the battlefield and will face him again … but I begin to think that Death has become a black figure with burning red eyes."

"Not for you, Randall. Not if we play it right." Randall nodded slowly at the blonde's words as he stared into the distance. _We have both made deals we may come to regret._ Vincent sighed. "Randall."

The red-head jumped slightly when a newspaper was unfolded with a crackle and shoved under his nose. "What's this?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at Vincent and taking the paper.

Vincent raised a thin eyebrow. Care to explain?"

Emerald green scanned the page. _'Savage Attack Shocks London: Another strange and horrific murder is the latest in London's recent string of unsolved murders. A mangled body was found in a pool of blood in the bedroom of one of London's richest merchants, later identified to be … _He glanced up at Vincent's blue eyes. "Do they think it's the same perpetrator as before?"

The blonde shrugged. "I think so. They think he's just gone one step further." There was an expectant pause.

"You told me to get rid of him when we discovered he was going to betray us." Randall's gaze was steady. "I had Sebastian take care of the matter. They can't trace it back to us."

"I see. And was it necessary to have him murdered him in such a … graphic manner?"

"I was merely implementing the next part of our plan. It was necessary." He brushed his fringe out of his face, both purple and green eye shining brightly. "Our plan is starting to move, Vinny."

A smirk crossed Vincent's face, all the more pronounced by the complete deviation from his normally stoic expression. "Slowly but surely, like an inevitable storm."

_oOoOoOoOoOo_

He dreamt.

_The sun felt warm on his upturned face, the grass crisp but softly cushioning his hands. He was back in the gardens of the Phantomhive manor; eight years old again and the older, more bitter Ciel merely a hazy presence in the boy's mind. Laughter played through the air like an age-old tune the older Ciel could barely remember. A memory of a time lost forever._

"_Ciel!" a voice called, high-pitched and bubbling with happiness. Sapphire blue eyes blinked at the young girl running towards him, blond curls bouncing haphazardly with the motion. _Lizzie. _A pink butterfly on the gentle breeze._

"_Look Ciel!" she said, waving her arm excitedly. Ciel caught a blurred glimpse of a ball in her hand. "Aunty Ann gave me this for Sebastian to play with!"_

_The ash-haired boy jerked at the name, staring at Elizabeth in shock. _Sebastian?_ A deep pang stabbed into his heart at the name. Ciel never wanted to hear the demon's name again; never wanted to think of him or remember the one who had betrayed him so completely, to spare himself the despair he felt. _Yet he still plagues my thoughts, even in a dream … There truly is no way to escape a demon once they have placed their mark upon you. _His hand crept up to touch his right eye, finding it whole and unharmed as was the way in dreams. _Even though I am marked no more.

_Elizabeth was laughing now, clapping her hands in delight as a big ebony black dog bounded up and dropped the ball at her feet. She hugged the dog tightly, her arms barely making it around the animal's neck as its tongue lolled. "Good boy, Sebastian!"_

That's right_, Ciel remembered suddenly. He had named the demon after his dog. The loyal, loving big dog that had paid for its loyalty that fateful day._

Demons have no loyalty.

What a foolish choice of names.

_Ciel shook his head, trying to clear it of the thoughts that chased each other in an endless cycle. Elizabeth was tugging at his arm, blue eyes shining. "Come and play with us, Ciel!" He allowed her to pull him to his feet, his mind retreating back into its eight-year-old existence as he smiled happily at the girl and nodded._

"_Yeah!"_

_Their laughter was interrupted by Sebastian's bark, alerting everyone to the arrival of a tall man in the garden. Sapphire eyes widened in delight._

"_Father!"_

_He turned, starting to run to the man who stood talking to his mother with a smile. Madam Red sat in the shade with them, laughing at whatever Ciel's father had said._

"_Young Master, please wait!"_

_A burning pain shot up Ciel's arm as he was jerked to a sudden stop. Tears welled up in the azure eyes as the boy glanced back in bewilderment to find that his beloved dog had bitten his hand. Sebastian released his hand instantly, but the dog's teeth had bitten deep, so that blood now trickled down the small, pale hand. Ciel backed away, hand held to his chest. His fingers throbbed; the blood scared the child, pain battling with utter confusion. Surely it was not Sebastian who had spoken?_

_Chocolate-brown eyes stared up at him, full of apology, the ears and tail drooping. "I'm sorry, Young Master. I just needed to speak with you; I meant no harm."_

_Ciel stared for a moment – it was indeed his dog who had spoken – before he thrust his bleeding hand out. _"No harm?"_ He had returned to his older self now that the illusion had been broken. _It's all just a dream. _What did it matter if Sebastian could speak? It was only a dream, after all. A pink tongue ran over the wounds gently, cleaning away the blood until Ciel snatched his hand back. "What do you want?" he asked, impatient._

"_As I said, just to speak with you," the big black dog said, laying down on the grass smoothly and setting his head on his front paws as he looked up at Ciel. "Why do you remain here, dreaming of the past?"_

_Ciel looked towards the gathering of all those he held dear. He felt like an outsider, watching them laugh and talk. _A world that I can never belong to, now._ "I …" he hesitated. "I am not so foolish as to say I wish to return to the past. That is impossible. Nor can I bring the past into the present. But …"_ I am stuck, unable to advance. I would rather remain in this illusion than return to that prison.

"_Do you not have the will to take yourself forward?" Sebastian asked, following Ciel's line of sight. "Ciel Phantomhive is not a person who stands still, mired in doubt and loss, I should think."_

"_He was." Ciel sat down beside the great dog. "I have lost my way, Sebastian. I must escape; I must protect the Queen, the way my father did and warn her of the plotting against her." Both boy and dog watched as Ciel's father took a seat, accepting a cup of tea from Tanaka. "Yet I do not have the means to escape that dungeon. I have thought it out thousands of times, and always come to the same conclusion. I can't, not the way things are now … I have lost the one I counted on to stay with me through the dark times. One I trusted to never betray me."_

"Did_ you trust him?"_

_A silence fell upon the conversation as Ciel considered the question. "I thought I did, mostly …" he said slowly. "Foolishly. I couldn't forget who he was – what he was … so I could never fully trust him. But I must have trusted him, for his betrayal to hurt so much."_

"_Would you forgive him? Take him back?" The casual question knocked Ciel off-guard, his eyes meeting Sebastian's in incredulous surprise. For a moment, he thought he saw a flash of scarlet in the chocolate-brown eyes, but there was no trace of red in the stare directed at him._

"_He betrayed me!" Ciel snarled, eyes narrowing as surprise changed to anger._

"_Yes," Sebastian replied calmly. "He did."_

_For some reason, the simple response punctured his anger and it drained away. _How could I ever forgive him for betraying my trust? What would stop him from betraying me again? _He slammed his hand down on the grass, feeling the crisp blades bend beneath his skin. _There's no reason for him to come back, in any case. I'm no longer his master; he mocks me with that former title.

_The demon probably enjoyed watching his pain. Why would he even feel a need to apologise?_

_Before he had a chance to say any of this, the big dog had gotten to his feet, sable coat absorbing the sunlight as it stretched. That done, he trotted around to sit facing Ciel, brown eyes serious._

"_Young Master, before you go there are some things I believe it best for you to know. Firstly, I advise that you stay away from Argentine."_

_Ciel's lip curled. _That freak._ "Why?" _Not that I'd go near him, anyway.

"_Because he is …" Sebastian hesitated. "He is a vampire."_

"_Vampire?" Ciel questioned, raising an eyebrow. _I've heard that word somewhere before … "_And how do you know that?"_

"_It does not matter how I know," the dog replied, the hint of a growl twining through the words. Strangely, the ash-haired boy got the impression it was not him that the growl was meant for. "In answer to your first question, vampires are creatures of the darkness who feast on the blood of others. If he bites you … at best you'll be dead; at worst you'll become one of his kind."_

He considers becoming one worse than dying?_ Ciel wondered as Sebastian continued. "He is the one responsible for the murders the Young Master was investigating before all of this happened."_

Why did this dream make so much sense? _"I see … That makes sense," Ciel replied, thinking over the evidence they had found so far. "Good work, Sebastian." He paused. _Why did I say that? Why is it so easy to fall back into our routine? First down in the dungeon, now I'm talking to a dog who merely shares his name. In a dream. _Ciel wondered if he had finally lost his hold on sanity._

_A faint smile crept into the dog's tone. "Thank you."_

As the Phantomhive butler, what would I do if I couldn't even accomplish something like this? _Ciel could hear the demon's response so clearly, see the small smirk lifting the corner of his mouth, red eyes glinting with amusement. "So I should stay away from Argentine. What else?"_

"_On the second floor of this building, three doors up from the end of the south corridor is a room called the map room. I believe there you shall find evidence of their treason. Find the room, find the evidence, and run. Don't let them catch you."_

"_If you already know this, why haven't you acted on it?" Ciel demanded. _Aren't dreams supposed to be frivolous things? And why does it feel like I am – _He frowned. _No. It can't be. Demons can't invade your dreams … can they?_ There was an amused glint in those red eyes – had they always been red? – as though the dog knew what he was thinking, making Ciel uneasy. _He'd probably only appear in a nightmare, anyway.

_Sebastian – surely it was absurd to even consider it was the demon; he hated dogs – sighed. "Young Master, I am … unable to enter that room. Unless circumstances change, you are the only one who can complete this task." The dog's mouth stretched in a grin, showing sharp white teeth. "Besides, I thought you wanted to prove you didn't need the help of a demon. Is this not a good chance?"_

_The mockery in the dog's tone goaded Ciel into snapping, "Fine. I don't need a traitor like him, anyway." Perhaps it was just his imagination, but the dog's black ears and bushy tail seemed to droop slightly under his sapphire glare._

"_If that is the case, it is time for me to be going. I'm truly sorry, Young Master … if someone like me can say such a thing. Remember what I told you." The dog touched his nose to Ciel's throat, making the boy wince at the cold, wet touch, and turned to go._

"_Wait!" Ciel cried instinctively, reaching out a hand before he realised what he was doing. He had to know. "Are you really him?" The question was barely above a whisper. Why was the answer so important? If it was Sebastian – if he'd come back – _

_Even if he came back, can I really accept one who betrayed me?_

_Red eyes met his as the dog glanced back over his shoulder. "Believe what you will of a dream, Young Master." A blink, and the gaze was mahogany once more again._

_Ciel's hand fell slowly as the ebony dog barked and trotted off towards the others gathered in the shade. _A dream … huh …_ Sapphire eyes gazed half-lidded and unseeing at the grass beneath him. _Just a foolish dream.

_Could it be true, however? The Queen respected his word enough that she would believe him if he reported a plot, but nothing could be done without evidence. If it was indeed in that room …_

Even supposing I somehow managed to free myself, how am I supposed to find those documents without getting caught? Sneaking around in those kinds of circumstances is supposed to be Sebastian's job! _A fresh wave of anger rose within the boy at his former butler, although now a new emotion rose upon it: uncertainty._

Young Master_._

_Ciel closed his eyes, wanting to enjoy the sunlight even if it wasn't real. It was warm on his face, something the torches in his cell did not provide. The breeze brushed across his face and caressed his cheek, murmuring in his ear gently._

Young Master, it is time to wake up.

No._ He didn't want to face the pain and the weight of his emotions just yet. _Let me sleep some more.

You cannot. There is much to do, my lord.

_Phantom lips touched his eyelid gently; the empty space that had once held the eye that had been stolen from him. So much more than that eye had been stolen. His pride. His sight. The contract._

Sebastian.

He shivered, hairs on the back of his neck rising at the cold touch that bit like ice and burnt like fire at the same time. The breeze was whispering again as the sunlight faded and the world around him grew dark and icy.

_Please forgive me, Ciel._

Ciel's eye jerked open as metal hit stone with a loud _clang_. He was blind in the darkness and he panicked as it closed in upon him. _Why can't I see anything?_ Had they taken his other eye as well? His hands flew to his face, ignoring the sting of his wounds as fingers clutched in the inky blackness, panic rising. He slumped in relief upon finding he still had possession of his other eye, and that the torches had burnt out completely, plunging the room into shadows more completely than it had for Argentine's visit the previous day. Sharp pain ran across his wrists, and he rubbed them absentmindedly, only to gasp in pain as his fingers touched raw skin.

_What …?_ Ciel thought in bewilderment, before realising what was wrong.

_The shackles no longer bound him. _They lay coiled at his feet, lifeless metal snakes.

Ciel touched his ankles, not finding the cold touches of metal there either, though he hissed as some of the cuts on his legs and arms broke open. _I'm … I'm free? How is this even possible …?_

Ears straining for any sound (for his eyes were useless in this void) Ciel thought he heard the faint sound of a door closing. Staggering to his feet, unable to stop himself wincing as muscles stretched and cramped, the boy reached blindly for the wall and followed it like a lifeline. His foot caught in one of the discarded chains and he staggered forward a few steps with a muttered curse, slamming into another stone wall.

_These … are steps … _Ciel realised, eyes catching sight of a small strip of light that he assumed was the gap beneath the door. _If this is a dream, please let it end now,_ he begged silently, hands tightening on the stone. It _felt_ real … _Do not torment me. _To have his freedom almost within his grasp …

_No. I can't run away. I must find the evidence I need to warn the Queen properly. The second floor … south corridor … third door from the end. _A flash of determination lit the stubborn blue eye as Ciel made his way up the steps, ignoring the protest of his body.

_Don't let them catch you._

_oOoOoOoOoOo_

The first thing he had seen upon awakening was an unfamiliar ceiling; it had taken the demon a while under the haze of exhaustion to realise he was lying on a bed in the room allocated to him by Ashford. Sebastian blinked, trying to piece together how exactly he had come to be there when the last thing he clearly remembered was walking down the hall –

_Argentine._

An astonishingly strong burst of anger ripped apart the veil of sleep still fogging his mind. Red eyes flashed, glowing in the darkness as the demon pushed himself up, wincing slightly as he did so. Every muscle and bone in his body was acing badly, worse than it had that time Finnian and those other two idiots had decided it would be fun to have a food fight in the servant's dining area and he had been forced to clean up.

Sebastian growled, hand reaching up to his neck. Even though his body should have healed the wound naturally, he could still feel the marks under his fingertips. The carmine gleam flared more brightly in his slit-pupil eyes. _There must be something in their bite that stops regeneration …_ Black nails as sharp as claws dug into the pale skin over the marks as his hand flexed convulsively. He pulled his hand away, eyeing the blood on his nails thoughtfully before licking them clean. _Argentine didn't try to kill me, so he must be intending to try and bite me again, like what happened to the others in the stories._

Sharp teeth were revealed in a snarl. He had merely wanted to murder the culprits quickly and quietly the day of the food-fight incident. Unfortunately, Ciel had recognised the slight grimace that had passed momentarily across his face, interpreted it correctly and had forbade him from doing anything of the sort. Sometimes it was a curse to have a master so perceptive.

This_ time, however … _A fiendish grin twisted the demon's face. The vampire would die slowly – he didn't deserve the mercy of a fast kill. Sebastian was going to make him bleed, make him scream, beg for mercy, tear him from limb to limb in a way that the creature would be alive until the very last possible second. It would make that murder a night ago – _was it only a night? How long had he been unconscious?_ – look like a peaceful way to die. He was going to –

Sebastian shook his head regretfully, eyes returning to their human appearance. As satisfying as it was to plan every meticulous detail of the torture he wanted to inflict – _would inflict_ – and imagine it vividly in his mind, that plan of action could not be put into play yet.

For one thing, there were still too many uncontrollable elements in his plan. It was one of those moments in time that the demon both loathed and loved in a twisted fashion: too many unknowns made anything a gamble and his current job all the more difficult … but it also made it far more enjoyable. Meals were tastier if you played with them beforehand, watching their vain and ignorant attempts to flee or work their own plan.

It was a time of utter chaos in the strings of Fate, and it was a time in which demons revelled.

_No,_ he reflected, tapping his lower lip. _Nothing is certain at this point. I can make no predictions. But I _will_ kill Argentine._

Sebastian sighed audibly as he sat on the edge of his bed in the darkness. Rather than get up and light a candle, he leant against the bed post, tiredness suddenly bringing a sudden change in mood. The lack of light did not bother him – on the contrary, it was more comfortable. Red eyes, still slightly clouded from the weakness plaguing him glanced from their tilted angle towards the window. The curtains were slightly ajar, giving the demon a view of a thin strip of sky above the rooftops of London. Dark purples and greys were starting to stretch across the sky like the fingers of greedy children. Even with his heightened sense of hearing, Sebastian could not hear thunder, but it could not be very far off. _A storm is coming. I wonder who will be caught in its grasp?_

He stretched out a hand to open the curtains further but paused as his eyes fell upon the contract seal. Sebastian found himself examining the mark, long black nail tracing the lines gently, almost absentmindedly as he watched through half-lidded eyes. _Have I done the right thing?_ he wondered. No; that was the wrong question. He was a demon – a being that did things for his own benefit, not because they were _right._

Perhaps the Young Master had affected his way of thinking more than he had originally thought. _Human foolishness_.

Well, whether his actions were for own benefits or because it was the 'right' thing to do, Sebastian could not deny that his judgement had not been perfect as of late. It irked him.

Still, he had done all he could for now. His fate, his reputation, his contract, everything – it all depended now on Ciel, and Sebastian – for the first time in two years – had no idea what the boy was thinking. Ciel's bitter face stared at him through the gloom, making tentacles of guilt begin to twine through him once again. _Traitor._

Standing and suppressing an inward wince as his muscles protested, the butler retrieved his tailed coat lying at the end of the bed and pulled it on. _I cannot stay here forever; if he is perceptive – which I doubt – Randall may have picked up that I've regained consciousness. _But then, he had never even taught Ciel _that_ particular trick with the contract link. Sebastian could sense both of them now; his mark upon Ciel's soul; his mark upon Randall's stolen eye. Even now, Ciel was awake, hurting but determined. Randall was awake and coming towards him.

Picking up his gloves, Sebastian opened the door with one hand and stepped through, mind half on those marked by him and the other on pulling his gloves on. Thus it was that the demon had stepped out into the hallway and closed the door behind him before registering a presence behind him.

"Well, demon, look who's up."

Sebastian's reaction was instantaneous, dropping the remaining glove and spinning around, ungloved hand coming up to defend himself. However, his tiredness put his spin slightly off balance and he staggered.

"What do you want?" Sebastian demanded, gaze already starting to take on a demonic slant. He realised with a curse that Argentine was too close, that his paralysing aura was already beginning to take effect with more ease this time around due to his fatigue.

Argentine had been lounging against the wall across his door with his arms crossed. Now he pushed away from the wall and strolled closer, arms spread and an expression of false hurt. "Aw, we haven't seen each other for an entire day and night and you greet me so coldly."

"It is not my fault if you find displeasure in my greeting. Tell me, _why_ would I even wish to greet you, _vampire_?" Sebastian raised an eyebrow at Argentine, not bothering to try backing away. The demon was conserving energy this time. If Argentine tried to bite him this time the vampire would be getting his face artfully decorated with deep slash marks. And vampires, Sebastian was fairly sure, did not have much regeneration ability on their own for wounds.

He tensed when the pale man threw an arm around his shoulders. "I missed you," Argentine said, completely ignoring Sebastian's earlier remark. For the first time, Sebastian noticed that the tips of Argentine's ears were pointed – normally the long hair was pulled back over the tips to hide this fact. Not that Sebastian really cared; he was too busy deciding where exactly he should aim. The eyes were a good choice. So was the throat, come to think of it. His desire to hurt the vampire increased tenfold when he realised that it had probably been Argentine who had taken him back to his room. Sebastian shuddered slightly at the thought.

"I'm surprised you recovered so quickly," Argentine continued. "The last demon I bit didn't wake up for a week. But then, your blood was a lot sweeter than his …" he finished thoughtfully. Noting the look of disgust that Sebastian could not disguise or contain, Argentine added, "That's a compliment, demon. You should take it."

"I'll decline your offer, thanks all the same," Sebastian replied coolly, fingers twitching. _Almost …_

Argentine sighed. "And here I was hoping I'd be able to get another meal. But where are my manners? I should ask you first. Do you mind?"

A grin stretched the demon's mouth, baring all his teeth. "I hope you get exterminated like the rest of your kind," was the pleasant reply.

Argentine leant closer so that his mouth was on a level with Sebastian's ear. "That's too bad. I forgot that I don't need manners when dealing with prey." His mouth was drifting suspiciously close to Sebastian's neck; the demon flexed his ungloved hand and summoned the strength he had been conserving until now to –

"_Argentine_."

The deep voice rumbled down the hallway warningly, distracting Sebastian and drawing both of the supernatural beings' attention. Argentine's aura disappeared entirely, allowing Sebastian to shove the vampire's arm off and step away as the broad figure of Von Barrett strode down the hallway. There was the tiniest hint of a frown on the otherwise stoic face. "What were you doing?"

"Merely giving a friendly greeting," Argentine told his master without the slightest trace of guilt on his face. "Ginger can't be mad at me for that."

"Lord Ashford, Argentine. And I've told you not to antagonise him." Von Barrett glanced at Sebastian. "Randall will be here in a minute."

Sebastian could have told the man that himself, but he bowed anyway. "I shall wait for him here, then."

"No doubt he has instructions for you." Von Barrett's attention went back to Argentine, who was leaning against the wall again. "Come, Argentine. I think I'll do some research in the library while I'm waiting for Randall." He strode off, Argentine ambling after him. The vampire glanced over his shoulder and smirked at him, an amused light dancing in the pale blue eyes at the glare on the demon's face.

More footsteps echoed behind them as Sebastian retrieved his other glove and pulled it on. He turned in time to find Randall standing beside him. The red haired noble frowned suspiciously at the departing duo, mouth pursed, before glancing at Sebastian. "Good to see you up and about again."

"My apologies for causing you worry, my lord."

"Are you alright?"

Sebastian resisted the urge to touch the marks on his neck. "Perfectly fine," he replied, not particularly wanting to mention the lingering tiredness. "Ah, your bow is tied crookedly …"

Randall stood still, one hand massaging his eye under the cover of his fringe as Sebastian retied the ribbon around his neck. This close, the demon noted that the red-head's visible eye seemed tired, and his skin paler than normal. _Did he not sleep well?_ Sebastian wondered, but before he could inquire Randall spoke up, crystal green locking with ruby red. "Don't let it happen again."

A cruel smile curled the edges of the demon's mouth as he finished tying the bow and stepped back. "I don't intend to, my lord." He bowed.

"Hmph," was all the reply the demon got as Randall started walking down the hall. "We're taking morning tea in the library. Prepare something and bring it there," he called over his shoulder. The butler's mouth twisted in annoyance, but the reply was as polite and controlled as always, the unseen bow smooth.

"Yes, my lord."

He had made his choice, and there was no time for regrets.

_oOoOoOoOoOo_

Ciel ducked behind a cabinet, hoping that the silver-haired servant hadn't seen him. His head throbbed, his eyes still unused to the bright light. A dull ache had settled in the empty space where his eye had been and some of the cuts along his arms had broken open, slowly staining the sleeve of his dirty coat crimson. The teenaged boy ignored it all as he peered around the edge of the wooden panel. He cursed silently. _Why are there so many rooms in this house? How am I expected to get to the first floor unnoticed?_ Ciel shook his head. _No; it was on the second floor. Concentrate, Ciel! You haven't got Sebastian to bail you out if you get caught anymore._ He touched his eyelid unconsciously, then snatched his hand away when he realised what he was doing. Thunder rumbled faintly in the background. _Looks like a storm is coming …_

Seeing no sign of the silver-haired servant or anyone else, Ciel stepped out of his hiding place and crept further up the hallway. _There should be stairs around here somewhere …_

It was a few moments before Ciel realised he could still hear the thunder rumbling – except that it was growing louder, not fading away. _Surely thunder doesn't last that long?_ he wondered, frowning as he paused to listen. It sounded like –

In a flash of understanding, Ciel looked around for the nearest hiding spot and found one: a door standing slightly ajar. Fervently hoping that there was no-one inside, Ciel dived at the door and flung himself inside. He pushed the door back to its former position, leaving a small crack to peer through. As the rumbling grew louder, the sapphire eye swept the room quickly, Ciel's chest heaving. Finally satisfied that there was indeed no-one else in the room but him – he didn't know what he could have done if there had been – Ciel pressed against the wall and returned his attention to the hallway.

As he had predicted, it was a tea cart rattling up the hallway that first passed into his vision. However, it was the sight of the person pushing the cart that made it hard for Ciel to breathe for a moment. He pushed himself back out of sight, eye wide. _Surely Sebastian can sense that I'm here?_ he thought wildly. _Even without our contract, demons are far more perceptive than humans …_

Ciel closed his eyes. To be caught by the person who had betrayed him …!

The rumbling of the cart grew more distant as it disappeared further up the corridor. In a state of disbelief, Ciel began breathing again; deep, shaking breaths to calm his wildly-beating heart. He glanced out of the door again, to see the back of Sebastian's black coat disappearing into the distance. Ciel slumped against the wall with a sigh of relief. _He didn't notice me …_

His empty eye socket throbbed again and Ciel clapped a hand to it with a grunt of pain. Why? Why did he feel so hollow without the demon's presence by his side? Why did it hurt so much to think that he could never rely on him for anything again? How had he come to depend on the demon in such a short time? _Why?_

Sebastian had abandoned him. He had betrayed him, broken their contract, no matter what he claimed: the one thing Ciel had been sure the demon held sacred. Ciel had thought that maybe, if only a bit, that the demon had come to respect him as more than just his next meal. For all of his caution that Sebastian was a demon and not to be trusted, Ciel had come to trust him, more than he should have.

His former butler had hurt him, not only emotionally but physically as well – his chest ached where Sebastian had slammed him against the wall and cut off his breath. _You seem to be forgetting who I am, boy._ That demonic gleam in his eye was proof that the demon enjoyed hurting him, enjoyed his torment … and yet, Ciel could not forget that strange dream.

Had that truly been Sebastian? Or had it merely been just his wistful imagination? Ciel could not be sure; nightmares and fever dreams had plagued him down in that dark dungeon since that first day. His fingers brushed over his empty socket once again.

_Please forgive me, Young Master._

It had been such an _odd_ dream. There were other unanswered questions as well. _Who freed me down there? And why does Sebastian still call me Young Master? I am nothing to him now._ Was it just to mock him? All of this uncertainty was making Ciel's chest hurt, not to mention his mind.

Could he take Sebastian back, if the demon asked?

It was such a stupid question. Why would the demon change his mind? There was no reason to come back to Ciel. But that voice, so like Sebastian's, had raised the question, and Ciel had no answer. He had told himself that he didn't need a traitor; that he was better off without the demon; that even if the demon begged on his _knees_ he wouldn't take him back. His soul was safe once again.

But what would happen when (_when;_ Ciel refused to think _if_) he escaped? After he warned the Queen? After the conspirators – and probably Sebastian as well – had been caught and he returned home? There was no-one else who could take on the phenomenal role the butler had taken on, nor even come close to comparing.

Looking past his anger and betrayal, Ciel found the truth of the matter within his heart: no-one could take Sebastian's place. He wanted the demon back.

_Nevertheless, it is pointless to speculate_, Ciel told himself. _I lost our contract; he can't come back unless something happened to Ashford._ Rage flooded through him at the red-haired Baron's name, for stealing his eye and the contract; and at Sebastian for letting the contract be stolen. If he pretended that by some fraction of a chance the demon's return was possible, how could he ever trust Sebastian after this? Demons had no concept of loyalty, of apology – no matter how much Sebastian could act like a human, he _was_ a demon. What would stop the demon from doing the same thing ever again?

Ciel rubbed his face wearily. _Am I seriously considering taking him back? No! I can't – I won't take back a traitor._ _My parents were betrayed; what a fool I would be if I let someone else betray me twice!_ _No._ He could not – would not – take the demon back.

"And that is my final decision," Ciel whispered aloud, sapphire eye darkened. He placed a hand on the door, ready to slip out and continue on.

A hand landed on his shoulder, making his heart stop beating for a moment. He was rooted to the spot in fear, unable to move, not even drop his fingers from the door or run. _Damn!_

Thunder rumbled ominously.

Breath tickled his neck. "Well, well, well. What do we have here?"

_oOoOoOoOoOo_

The tea cart rattled to a stop as Sebastian paused, knocking on the oaken door beside him.

"Enter," called a voice from within. He pushed open the door and manoeuvred the cart inside.

The library was about twice the size of the one that the three conspirators had had their conversation in earlier that morning. About two thirds of this room was actually devoted to a wide collection of books ("Vinny likes to read," Randall had explained at some point, as though it required explaining) while the remaining third had a comfy armchair and couch arranged around a table. On the far side of the room was on an empty fireplace, though logs were stacked up within waiting to bring forward blazing warmth should someone wish it. Randall and Von Barrett broke off talking at Sebastian's entrance; the blonde noble returning to his perusal of a thick book while Randall lounged back against the couch.

"My apologies for the wait," Sebastian said, pouring tea for each of them, placing the tea cups on the table with a gentle _clink_. "Today's morning tea is sticky date pudding with caramel sauce; I hope it is to your liking."

Randall lifted his teacup to his mouth, savouring the sweet scent of the beverage and the warmth of the china before taking a sip. "That sounds nice." He accepted the plate with a slice of the dessert and began to eat. Von Barrett motioned towards the table as his eyes followed the tiny print crammed onto the page before him. Sebastian took the hint and placed the marquess' share on the table beside his tea.

The demon noticed the red-head shiver slightly. "My lord seems cold. Shall I light the fire?" There was no window in the room for him to get a good look at the sky outside, but it seemed to Sebastian as though the storm had grown closer. _If it's cold here, the dungeons will be much colder –_ Sebastian closed his eyes briefly to rid himself of such bothersome thoughts. _Not my concern anymore._

Completely ignorant of the demon's thoughts, Randall's green eye had flickered towards the empty grate, then towards Von Barrett in an unspoken question. Von Barrett looked up and shrugged ever so slightly, blue eyes dark and emotionless. "You may as well. Argentine's not here at the moment, and he's the only one who would complain."

Randall nodded once and glanced at Sebastian bowed. "Light the fire," he commanded and turned his attention back to the blonde as Sebastian bowed. "Where _is_ Argentine, anyway?"

"I asked him to go get a book from my study," Von Barrett replied absentmindedly, turning the page. "If you're bored, Randall, I suggest you find a book and read it."

All he got in reply was a mildly annoyed glower, but after a few seconds Randall got up and wandered off towards the shelves of books, passing Sebastian as he did so. The butler had his back to the room, blocking the view of the fireplace. Whatever it was he did, it left a fire roaring in the grate as though it had been steadily burning for a while. Warmth washed across the room and lifted the cold tang that had hung in the air beforehand. Randall wandered back with a book on the military in his hand, flopped down on the couch again and began flipping through the book at random as he sipped his tea.

"Ah~ that's better."

There were perhaps two minutes of silence before the door burst open, allowing a cold breeze to sweep across the room and steal what warmth had built up. Randall and Von Barrett both glanced, curiosity in the blue and annoyance clearly visible in the green gazes respectively. Red eyes also looked curiously towards the door, though they darkened to a deep crimson at the sight of the intruder.

"Was it really necessary to make such an entrance?" Von Barrett sighed. Argentine's gaze swept over the room, sparing a frown for the fireplace and a sneer at Randall and Sebastian. He didn't move from the doorway, but gestured with one hand.

"I got your book, Doctor," Argentine said, a small smirk crossing his face. "And guess what I found running around the place? You don't do such a good job of housekeeping, demon, if you let rats like this scurry around unchecked." His grin widening in a fanged leer at Sebastian, Argentine tossed the other thing he held in his other hand to the ground in front of him. It gave a small cry when it hit the ground.

Crimson eyes widened at the sight of Ciel trying to pick himself up off the floor. Up here in the better light, the boy's wounds were more obvious, more painful to look at, every one a tiny dagger wound reminding the demon of his failure of duty. Ciel found his feet and got up unsteadily, holding his side as though it pained him – in all likelihood it did – but still glaring defiantly at everyone in the room. Argentine and Sebastian were included in his scowl, though Ciel's remaining eye widened a fraction – was that _panic?_ – at the sight of his former butler. Ciel spat out the blood that had filled his mouth as Sebastian froze, for the second time in his existence unsure of what to do.

The two nobles had no such insecurities; Randall had jumped to his feet while Von Barrett remained sitting. "What is the meaning of this, Argentine?" the red-head demanded. "I said only yesterday evening –"

Argentine cut him off, pale hand waving impatiently. "I found him further up the hallway in Vincent's study, Ginger," he drawled. "So I brought him here. As for why the brat was _there_ and not down in the dungeon like he's supposed to be … why don't you ask _him_?" A flick of the hand gestured towards the battered and dirty Ciel, though Argentine's pale blue eyes were fixed on Sebastian. Forgetting his indecision in his hatred of the vampire, Sebastian merely raised a cool eyebrow in response.

"Well, Phantomhive brat?" Randall demanded. "How did you manage to escape?"

"You expected something that shoddy to keep me locked up?" Ciel countered to cover his own confusion on the subject. _Just what happened down there? Was it all just a dream? Does that mean I'm still dreaming now?_ Small fingers tightened on his side, making him wince inwardly. No, he hurt too much for it to be dream. "It appears you're a disgrace to your rank, Ashford."

Randall's face went dead white with rage, a stark contrast to his vibrant hair. Von Barrett eyed his friend worriedly, expecting an outbreak, but the red-head bit his lip to distract himself. The ploy worked, and he forced a bark of laughter. "You aren't doing too well, either, brat – look at the filth you serve." Ciel's expression darkened, the blue eye becoming steel. Randall sat back down again, lounging carefully in his seat. _If I didn't need this brat alive I'd kill him._

"Which brings us back to the question of, what exactly were you doing in my study?" Von Barrett asked, leaning forward slightly, piercing blue gaze locked on Ciel. "Surely the smarter thing to do would have been to run?"

Ciel drew himself up to his fullest height, part of him annoyed that he still came nowhere near even Randall's height. His chin tilted upwards stubbornly, blue eye cold. He was no longer just a dirty child covered in bruises and his own blood; he was the Earl of Phantomhive, standing tall with as much dignity he could muster. _It would be pointless at this stage to lie; Von Barrett is smart enough to figure out what I was doing anyway._ "I was collecting evidence of your high treason."

Randall blinked; Von Barrett nodded slightly as though his suspicions were confirmed. Sebastian hid a small smile at the boy's bravery – or was it simply audacity?

Argentine snorted. "Evidence? You were empty-handed when I found you, human brat. Are you sure you just weren't lost?"

A withering sapphire stare was sent his way. "Why would I carry such evidence with me? I hid what I collected." A bare-faced lie, but hopefully it would unsettle them. _I hope you search this stupid townhouse from top to bottom in panic, traitorous bastards._ That Sebastian could probably do the task in less than an hour soured his triumphant mood somewhat.

Ignoring the vampire – _vampire?_ – the young teen turned his glare on the blond noble. Down in that dark cell, Ciel had had time to think, to try to work out their plan – though there was still aspects he couldn't understand. One conclusion he had come to was that the blond noble, so bored and disinterested, was probably the one in charge seeing as Randall always deferred to him. Vincent von Barrett, the man who shared his father's first name. Had his father ever questioned his loyalty to the throne? Generations of Phantomhives, all ready to go to whatever lengths on the dark side of the law to protect the monarch they served. There were times when Ciel cursed his duty, but he did it all the same. He, the last of the Phantomhives, would carry on their duty. _Whatever it takes, to whatever end._

Von Barrett was unaffected by a child's stare, returning to his book and thus indicating that he clearly found it more interesting. Ciel growled. _Don't mess with me!_ "Why?" he demanded. "Why would you betray your Queen and country?"

"That's none of your concern," Von Barrett said coldly, not looking up at Ciel.

"Is it really a betrayal?" the red-head said cryptically. "Well, Vinny?"

Von Barrett looked up, raising an eyebrow at the nickname but choosing not to comment. Instead, he told the red-head, "I think you can deal with the brat, as he _is_ your responsibility."

"Shall I take him back to his cell?" Argentine asked. Randal frowned at him.

"No. Sebastian, you take care of him. Make sure he can't escape again." Noting the sudden gleam in the demon's eyes, the red-head added, "And don't kill him."

"Yes, my lord." The black-clad butler bowed smoothly. Ciel took a step backwards as the demon walked towards him, bumping into Argentine behind him.

"Careful, brat," Argentine shoved him forwards, making Ciel stumble. The edges of he vampire's black coat brushed against Ciel as Argentine headed towards the others. He passed Sebastian midway, the vampire's smirk meeting the demon's burning red gaze. Argentine reached out and grabbed Sebastian's arm, whispering something to him that made the demon's eyes flash in anger.

_He's no longer yours, demon. He's mine._

Ciel backed up further as Sebastian yanked his arm from Argentine's hold and moved towards him, momentarily surprised at the break in Sebastian's normally cool façade. That light was in his eyes again, the hunger, the enjoyment of pain. Eyes that loved no-one and looked upon people as mere prey to satisfy the demon's hunger. That demonic, carmine gaze.

Even though part of his mind screamed for him to run, that there was no-one behind him to stop him throwing the door open and fleeing, Ciel could not stop staring up at Sebastian, seeing nothing but that cold, emotionless gaze with that terrifying light. His back touched wood and Ciel realised he had reached the door. _Run_, his mind urged. _Run now!_ The handle was only a few inches from his fingers and he willed them to move. But they did not – he _could_ not move. Frozen to the spot and back pressed against the door, Ciel watched as Sebastian stopped right in front of him.

A white gloved hand reached out, wrapping around Ciel's neck with ease. Sebastian could feel the boy's fluttering pulse beating against his fingers; his lifeblood flowing faster, the beating life against his hand. Ciel flinched as Sebastian slid his thumb under the boy's chin to tilt his head backwards. A smirk drifted across the demon's face as he gazed downwards at his prey. "Oh my," he said, an undercurrent of dark amusement in his voice. "Are you scared?"

Ciel _was _scared. He was more afraid than the first time he had met the demon amidst a tangle of blood and ruined bodies in a candlelit, gloomy room. That time, Ciel feared the demon, yes, but he hadn't known then what the demon was capable of. _And dying was better than remaining in that hellhole._

But this time … This time, he wondered if Sebastian really was going to snap his neck and defy Ashford's orders. _He already betrayed our contract, what's to stop him doing it again?_ Ciel rebelled suddenly. He had accepted two years ago that he would lose his soul to complete his task, but he would lose it at the moment _he_ chose. He was _not_ going to lose his soul here at the demon's whim! _I will not let him ridicule me before I die!_

"I'm not afraid!" Ciel snapped, the anger and fear in his eyes turning to hate. "I _will_ stop you! All of you traitors!"

Sebastian's hand tightened automatically as he flinched inwardly at the accusation. Guilt was burning into him again, and he gritted his teeth as he fought against it. Ciel stared up at him, defiant but certain he was going to die. _No! I will not die here, like this, at his hands!_

"Hah! Just how do you intend to stop us?" Randall called from his seat on the couch. Argentine was busy handing Von Barrett's book over to the blond noble. "There's no-one here to help you, boy, and you have nothing."

A small 'tch' escaped Ciel's mouth. "Let me go!" he ordered, tugging at Sebastian's arm. He cried out in pain as the demon slammed him backwards into the door, losing his grip on the black cloth.

Sebastian stared down at him, wanting to smile at the defiant sapphire gaze. The spirit to defy a demon … it was still there. The spirit that had, over time, won the demon's admiration.

'_Make sure you take care of Ciel though, understand?'_

Such a small, small master … but older than his years.

'_You always take good care of Master Ciel, so I have no worries about that'_

He was tired of feeling guilty, of playing games. It was time – however ironically – to decide where his loyalties lay.

'_Sebastian, you take care of him.'_

One thing Randall had forgotten was that demons are quite capable of twisting an order to interpret it in their own way.

_Yes, my lord._

Ciel's eyes widened in surprise when Sebastian's hand loosened its grip and then dropped away entirely. Confusion reigned as he coughed violently, lungs gasping for the air they had been denied, and it was only heightened when he caught sight of the small smile on the demon's face. There was something odd about it, but Ciel didn't have time to consider what it was.

His initial surprise was nothing compared to the astonishment that swept through him as Sebastian stepped back a pace and knelt, his hand over his heart.

"Young Master, I have recently behaved inappropriately. Please forgive me."

A long silence followed. Sebastian, his eyes on he ground, could only imagine the various expressions that must have been crossing the boy's face at his words. In the end, Ciel only managed a weak, "What?" out of his disbelieving confusion.

"What are you doing, Sebastian?" Randall's voice cracked from behind him, confusion lacing his voice.

"Don't fool with me, traitor," Ciel snapped in a low tone. "Or lie to me!" _Please let this be a joke. Is he actually asking me to …?_

"I am not lying, Young Master. After careful consideration, I have decided that I have acted wrongly. If you wish to call me traitor, Young Master …" Sebastian paused, swallowed. "I have probably earned that title."

Ciel stopped leaning against the door for support, stepping forward and forgetting everyone else in the room in his anger. "You _are_ a traitor! How dare you even _try_ to apologise to me?!"

"Young Master –"

Ciel didn't want to hear excuses, worried that his resolve would crumble. _This isn't real. _The voice that had plagued him since that strange dream grew louder. Could he forgive Sebastian? _No! I _will not. _He is a demon; they don't apologise. This is a trick. Why else would he do this?_ "Why?"

Sebastian looked up at Ciel, red eyes searching and slightly confused. "Why?" he repeated. _Because it is my fault the contract was usurped._

"Why should I believe you?" the noble elaborated, frowning. _No … I don't want to believe him. Why should I give him a chance? _

_Why should he believe me?_ Sebastian wondered. _By rights, he should not believe me at all. Were I human, would I believe the apology of a demon? _He considered it. Sebastian had never understood completely the way humans thought, had never tried to imagine himself as one – _who would imagine themself as a lesser creature?_ – but since_ he_ wouldn't believe another of his kind, he doubted that a human would.

How to describe, how to explain the patchwork of thousands of thoughts and image and reasons it had taken him to understand? The others would not wait out a full explanation.

As usual, his thinking was done in a split second so that there was only a slight pause between Ciel's question and his reply as he hesitated. "Tell me, Young Master; is not the spirit of the law more important than the letter?"

"In some cases …" Ciel replied slowly. _Where is he going with this?_ There was no smirk, no gleam of amusement or condescension in the red eyes. Sebastian's face was serious, although he seemed … hesitant. Unsure. _Since when is Sebastian unsure of anything?_

"There is no time to explain it all here, but in short … I made a mistake. My contract was made with you, Young Master. Our contract is still in place. Whether or not you bear the physical sign of that is irrelevant. You are the one I wish to serve."

"Randall –" Von Barrett said warningly; Sebastian ignored all of them except Ciel.

"How do I know you wouldn't betray me again?" Ciel demanded. "Answer me that, Sebastian! Demons have no loyalty, just your aesthetics. What's to stop you from doing it again?!"

"I understand the situation better now. As for the rest, you are correct. I have no loyalties, but I will not betray our contract again. That, you will have to take on faith." He held up a hand to cut Ciel's protests off. "Time is short, Young Master, so I will get to the point."

"You have summoned me, and this fact will not change for eternity. However, you have the grounds to rule our contract over, if you wish. Although it goes against tradition and our aesthetics, I feel it only 'fair' to offer you the chance to be free of me. Renew our contract or renounce it. Choose."

Ciel's sapphire eye widened in shock and rage. _How. Dare. He?_ Did Sebastian think that he could come back just like that? With no explanations, no excuses, no apologies … the damn demon should be begging on his knees if he really was serious! _I will not forgive him! I will not take him back! Not as a traitor! Not like this. He betrayed me and I will make him _pay_ for humiliating me!_ The demon asked for faith? _Faith?!_

"Could I ever trust you again?" he whispered, barely audible even to Sebastian's hearing. Ciel _hated_ the demon, despised those red eyes that stared up at him, waiting for an answer calmly as rage boiled through the young boy's veins. He hated him, despised him, wanted to hurt him and make the demon suffer as he had been made to suffer … and yet … he missed Sebastian. He wanted the demon's reassuring presence by his side, a deadly promise of protection, the one thing – or so he had thought – that would stay by him even when the darkness fell and nightmares roamed.

"_Randall!_" Von Barrett's voice had reached a yell, snapping Randall out of his stunned disbelief at the turn of events. He shoved his fringe behind his ear to display his stolen eye, the contract that bound the demon.

Doing this would ultimately doom him, but for the sake of their cause Randall could not let the boy take back the contract. _How is it even possible? I hold the contract, not that brat!_ "Sebastian! Stop this foolishness! This is an order! _Kill that boy!_"

_Kill that boy._

Three simple words, a blazing pentacle and a moment of time in which Ciel finally understood that once again, his choice was not really a choice any longer.

_I need him._

The flash of understanding made Ciel sway slightly, his sapphire eye blind to the room, the nobles' cries, to the hand Sebastian stretched out to steady him.

_He needed Sebastian_. To be his power, to be his companion, to be his stability and most of all to be his butler … to stop him from sinking into the darkness through which he walked.

Renew the contract.

Renounce the contract.

Just as his choice between a contract and death at the first meeting had not really been a choice at all, circumstances this time had already made his decision for him.

Renew the contract, and his soul would be in pawn once more.

However, renounce it and Sebastian would leave, no longer bound by any side, leaving Ciel by himself at the mercy of the three conspirators. Or would the demon stay, and feast on the souls of them all? Either way, if Sebastian disappeared now, Ciel's chance of escape became zero. He would never reach his goals. The knight held the king in check, and any possible move Ciel could make would still lead him into checkmate.

_'Even though I was put in an abyss of despair, a place likened to Hell … A chance as thin as a spider's thread was sent to me offering the choice to crawl out. I decided not to give up and reached for it. We humans have that strength. Though … grasping it or not is up to the person.'_

His words to Sohma, so long ago – or so it seemed – swam across Ciel's mind, making him clench his fists in frustration. The demon could not have planned his timing better, dangling that thin line of rescue for Ciel to grab once again in the darkness. _That damn demon!_ Ciel snarled in his mind, anger raging at having his hand forced warring with admiration for the demon's scheming and, though he didn't want to admit it, a tiny breath of relief drifting in the depths of his mind.

"Sebastian," he said, voice low, disbelief rising within him at what he was going to say. Sebastian looked up at him, cat-like eyes tinged with an emotion Ciel could have sworn was worry. _That's impossible. Why would he be worried? Either way, he wins._

His decision and the thoughts leading to them had taken place in such a short amount of time that it almost reached the level of a demon. Randall's order still hung in the air even as another three-word order left Ciel's lips to seal his fate.

"Renew our contract."

Something cleared in Sebastian's face; the red irises gleamed like new stars, his mouth stretching into a wide smile.

"Yes, my lord."

_oOoOoOoOoOo_

END CHAPTER 4

_oOoOoOoOoOo_

A/N: Eheheheh ... OTL

Realisation chapters are really not my forte -__-" So hopefully this one turned out alright ^^b

Um ... I feel the urge to say this, even though it's not important, but for everyone who has watched epsiode 17/18 of the anime: The beginning of this chapter is not meant to be in the same place Ciel found himself in ... It's more like, Sebastian's inside his own consciousness, rather than in his memory? *hopeless at explanations*

Speaking of which, I really like the new ending song ... It's very addictive ... I was listening to it while I wrote some of this chapter ^^

Once again, thank you for your patience ^^ I'll try to put up the next chapter soon, but I'm going to be busy in the near future and have less time to write ^^" So ... there may be another wait. I intend to start keeping a progress update on my profile page ... because I always appreciate when other people have something like that in their profiles ^^;;

Thank you for reading~! I hope you enjoyed this chapter~!\(^o^)/

_With his back to the wall, Ciel has no other choice but to accept his butler back. But will Sebastian keep his word? And even if he does, the three conspirators aren't going to take this lying down. Can our duo thwart their plans _and_ make it out alive?_

_We're rushing towards a climax! Next chapter (currently in-progress): _That Butler, Counterattack_!_


	5. That Butler, Counterattack

Hello everyone~!! :D  
Long time no see! (^^)/

Well, it's been a long, long wait of many months (who am I kidding? it's been over a year! D:) but finally, the new chapter is here!! Thank you all so much for your patience! (^o^)/

There are so many reasons why this chapter came so late but the main one is just a lack of free time … and then when I finally _got_ the time, I _for_got what was supposed to be happening in the story (thank goodness for scribbling notes!) OTL I'm incredibly sorry it took so long to get this chapter done… I hadn't realised I'd left the last chapter on such a cliff-hanger! :O I don't know if my writing style has changed or not over the past year (I get the feeling it may have) but hopefully it still mostly matches up with previous chapters~

**Warnings:** As always, it's set after the Indian arc, so it refers to characters/events that have happened before then… although by this stage everyone already knows that, but I feel obliged to mention it anyway… OTL

**Disclaimer:** Kuroshitsuji is not mine, has never been mine, and looks pretty unlikely to ever be mine in the future – that happy pleasure will always belong to Toboso-sensei. On the other hand, Argentine, Randall and Vincent are all characters of my creation, which does make me wonder if Ciel and Sebastian are going to hold me to account for all their actions so far… Scary thought. O.o

**Author Ramblings:** I say it every chapter and I mean it every single time, but a massive, heartfelt THANK YOU!! to everyone who reads this story, especially those of you who take the time to also review or fave it ^^b You've been patient with me for this last year and continued waiting for the next chapter, even though sometimes a massive hiatus like that can lead to a story being abandoned… and for that, I am eternally grateful. May the next chapter not take such a long time to write! (-/\-)

And as always, many thanks go to my beta, Nanaga, who has helped me dig my way out of the plot holes I kept digging myself into. Thanks, Nanaga! :D

Anyway, enough of my rambling, I've made you wait long enough already. Hope you enjoy the new chapter and thanks for reading! \(^o^)/

_**oOoOoOoOoOo**_

**Chapter 5**

**At N****ight: That Butler, Counterattack**

_Sometimes we must lose our way  
Before we can find it_

_oOoOoOoOoOo_

"_Choose."_

_His decision and the thoughts leading to them had taken place in such a short amount of time that it almost reached the level of a demon. Randall's order still hung in the air even as another three-word order left Ciel's lips to seal his fate._

"_Renew our contract."_

_Something cleared in Sebastian's face; the red irises gleamed like new stars, his mouth stretching into a wide smile._

"_Yes, my lord."_

To Ciel, it seemed as though the next few moments took place in eternity, though in reality the demon was moving so fast it was almost a blur in order to prevent any interference. Sebastian stood up swiftly, moving to stand behind Ciel as he pulled off his left glove, exposing the contract seal marked on his flesh. Was it wrong, to feel relief that he had been accepted back? Not forgiven; far from it – he had seen the burning anger flicker through Ciel's eye.

Perhaps it was not relief that he had been accepted back, but that his aesthetics, his reputation, were safe. He had not broken their contract. Ciel had not demanded it over. He had not lost the boy's soul. _Yes, that is it,_ Sebastian told himself, ignoring the voice inside him that suggested he was not quite being truthful. _Why should I be relieved that a human brat renewed our contract?_

Sharp teeth bit into his thumb, teasing crimson beads from the skin until they began to flow freely from the deep wound: a superficial wound would heal too quickly for what he was about to do. The pale hand slipped over Ciel's shoulder, reaching across to caress the boy's cheek as Sebastian leant down to whisper in his ear. Ciel flinched at his touch, but nevertheless remained standing straight.

"Would you put your faith in me, Young Master?"

Sebastian's low whisper, almost a purr, made Ciel shiver as the demon's breath tickled his ear. Surprisingly, it was Argentine who spoke next, pale eyes fixed on Ciel.

"He could steal your soul here and now with what he's about to do, brat."

_Yes … he could have done it at any point before this … but he chose instead to ask again for a binding between us? What is Sebastian playing at?_ Confusion mingled with his anger, diluting it into annoyance. _It doesn't matter in the end; I must escape from here, by whatever means_. If that meant trusting his life and his soul to the demon once again, so be it. _I have no choice._

"…Yes."

Sebastian's grip tightened for a moment, nails pressing against Ciel's skin. Ciel could _feel_ the demon's lips stretch into a smile over those sharp teeth, a predator's grin at catching his prey. With a spark of irritation, Ciel lifted his chin, meeting Randall's disbelieving face squarely, although his words were addressed to Sebastian. "Stop playing around. Hurry up!"

The demon's grin widened at the familiar impatience in those words. Yes, Ciel was still the same as before. "Understood."

His hand shifted, thumb wiping over the drooping eyelid that had once held Ciel's eye and leaving a trail of dark blood behind. Ciel had paid in blood the first time around; now it was his turn. _Though not_, he mused, _for the same reasons._ Demon magic was powerful, yet to do some things it required more power than others. His palm came to rest against the empty socket, feeling the wet touch of his blood and the dried blood of Ciel's that still remained there. Long fingers threaded into ash-coloured hair. The contract mark emblazoned on his hand aligned directly with the absent mark that should have been in Ciel's eye.

Ciel heard Sebastian whisper something, too low to hear properly though it didn't sound like any language he had heard before. Burning pain ripped through his head, agony driving him to bite his lip and draw blood. He thought he heard someone scream. The demon's hand was like fire, searing through his flesh to the very bone beneath; new strength washed through him, driving away the pain and the weariness and the hurt –

Then suddenly, it ended; the flow of fire ebbed but the strength remained behind. Ciel swayed slightly and felt Sebastian steady him with a hand on his shoulder as the demon's other hand fell away from his face.

"Young Master, are you alright?"

Am_ I alright?_ Ciel wondered blankly. He truly didn't know. "What did you –?" he asked slowly, reaching up to his face. He stopped abruptly as his fingers brushed his right eyelid. _It felt like –_ "_How_ did you –?"

Sebastian straightened as Ciel turned to look incredulously at the demon. The sapphire gaze caught sight of the contract mark on the demon's hand glowing like the midday sun, so brightly that even the glove Sebastian tugged back on failed to conceal it. Red eyes met blue and a flicker of a familiar mocking smile curved the demon's lips.

"As the Phantomhive butler, what would I do if I couldn't even accomplish something like this?"

_The Phantomhive butler, huh?_

"Sebastian! What the hell do you think you're doing?! Kill him _now_!" Randall's scream echoed around the room. The red-head was clutching at his eye with one hand, lines of pain etched across the visible side of his face. It was Ashford who had screamed earlier in the midst of that wildfire.

The edges of Ciel's mouth curved up in sardonic amusement. _This is the end of your game, fools, not mine._ His eyelid lifted, slowly at first, to reveal a new eye etched with the shining contract mark, glowing as brightly as the one on Sebastian's hand. A rush of power flowed through him in the strength of that purple luminesce. "Sebastian, this is an order. _Destroy them!_"

A wide, sadistic smile spread over his butler's face and the scarlet eyes glowed brightly with fiendish glee. "Gladly, my lord."

Von Barrett and Randall were mere humans, unable to keep up with a demon's movements. It was only Argentine who reacted in time, shoving the low table in front of him with a boot towards the oncoming demon, overturning it and sending plates, cutlery and food flying. Another booted heel caught the table mid-flight with enough force to snap it in half, pieces falling to either side of Sebastian as the satisfying _crack_ widened the demon's grin. Claws came slashing out of nowhere towards his face and Sebastian dodged it with a neat backwards somersault. Argentine ducked under the demon's kick, letting it whistle over his head before lunging towards the demon once again, claw-like nails outstretched.

Randall had finally broken out of his stunned paralysis with the destruction of the table, jumping over the remnants with one hand as his other reached for the knife hidden in boot. Let Argentine fight the demon; Randall had been trained to see the key in every situation and right now that key was the boy himself.

Ciel, distracted for a second by the vampire's attack, failed to see Randall's approach until a strong arm encircled his body, pinning his arms to his side as cold steel kissed his throat. He froze instinctively, mentally cursing himself for not seeing this coming. To have to rely on Sebastian _again_…

"Don't move, brat," Ashford hissed in his ear, the sharp knife pressing against Ciel's throat. In a louder voice, the red-head noble called out, "Stop that this instant, demon."

Sebastian half-turned his head, most of his concentration on maintaining his grip on the vampire's arms as those claws strained to reach his face. He frowned as he took in the situation, annoyed with himself for letting this happen once again. Red eyes flickered between Argentine and Randall, calculating.

"Move an inch, and your precious master dies along with your contract," the red-head hissed. Blood poured from his closed right eye like macabre tears. "Are you daring to break _our_ contract? You will stop this foolishness immediately!" The closed eye opened, and now twin purple eyes stared at him. Two souls linked to him with his seal; though only Ciel's was a true bond.

"My apologies, Lord Ashford," Sebastian replied calmly, showing nothing of the strain he was under in holding the vampire off. "However, you and I do not have a contract. My true master is Ciel Phantomhive, and I am his pawn to move as he pleases until the very end." Red eyes fixed on Ciel's mismatched eyes, waiting. A thin grey eyebrow was raised in reply. _What are you waiting for?_

_Hmph._ Sebastian brought his foot up and kicked Argentine as he released his grip on the vampire, shoving him backwards into Von Barrett with enough force to send them both tumbling to the ground. At the same time, Ciel rammed his elbow into Randall's chest, catching the older man at the base of his ribs and forcing him to drop his knife with a gasp. Sebastian noticed this with amusement as he took care of the rest, knocking Randall backwards into a bookcase. Books rained down on the red-head as he tried vainly to protect his head, blood now pouring from both mouth and eye.

"You're getting slow, Sebastian," Ciel said with a mocking smile. "Must I do your job for you?"

"My apologies, Young Master. I was intrigued to see how you would deal with it, since you always seem to end up in situations where I must rescue you." A gloved hand brushed the side of Ciel's neck; the thin line from the knife closing up beneath the demon's fingers. Had the demon always had that ability? Ciel wondered in the back of his mind, but it was the sting of the demon's words that he felt most. _I always have to rely on him to rescue me …_

'_Just what good are you without the demon, brat? You amount to nothing … Without him, you're just a snot-nosed human brat.'_

_I am _not _powerless._

Von Barrett had disentangled himself from Argentine and looked over to where Randall was staggering to his feet, books scattered around him like fallen leaves. _This could be more difficult than we ever imagined. If by chance the Phantomhive boy wins …_ "Randall! Go and destroy any evidence you can find of our plans! Argentine and I will stay to fight them!"

Randall blinked at his friend, wiping his mouth free of blood. About to protest, he realised Vincent's plan. _After all, the information is in our minds, so it doesn't matter if the written records are destroyed. If that brat managed to get solid evidence of our plans …_ "Right."

Sebastian went to follow the red-head as his coat disappeared out of sight through the door, but Ciel grabbed his arm. The butler glanced down at him, confusion furrowing the demon's brows. "Young Master?"

"I'll go." _I _cannot_ depend on you for everything. _"You stay here and stop Von Barrett and Argentine." _I have unfinished business with the Baron, anyway… for stealing my eye._

"But –"

"We can't allow Ashford to destroy any documents, and it's better if we keep these three split up." That stubborn blue gaze locked on Sebastian's face, the boy's face set with determination. "Sometimes I must stand on my own, Sebastian."

The demon's eyes widened briefly, before a small smile of understanding appeared. "Very well, my lord. I shall deal with these two. Lord Ashford is probably heading to the map room –"

_A dream_. "I know where that is."

"– or his own study, or Von Barrett's," Sebastian finished. Ciel nodded impatiently and pushed past the demon, dashing down the corridor after Randall.

Red eyes watched the small figure disappear. _Take care, Young Master_. His attention returned to the other two in the room, both of whom had found their feet. Argentine's blue eyes burned with the desire to fight and make the demon bleed, of that Sebastian had no doubt. He sighed, straightening his glove with a tug of his teeth, red eyes gleaming as he spoke.

"Time to clean up this mess."

Argentine bared his fangs in a wide grin, the tips ivory sharp. "This is one mess you can't make your way out of, demon."

"Forgive me if I beg to differ," Sebastian replied calmly, taking note of the layout of the room. Books and broken china lay scattered underfoot, creating pitfalls strewn across the entire room. Flames continued to dance merrily within the grate, matched only by the heat in the vampire's unblinking gaze.

He heard Von Barrett's sigh. "If we are done with the pleasantries?"

"Certainly, _my lord_," came Argentine's mocking reply as he leapt towards Sebastian, covering the distance between them in less than the time it took to blink. Unfazed, Sebastian ducked under the vampire's slashing claws once again, using the movement to grab the teacart he had brought earlier and shove it towards Von Barrett. It caught the man in the legs as he tried to get closer, knocking him off balance so that he staggered into a nearby bookshelf. Before Argentine could strike again, Sebastian grabbed his arm and aimed a kick at the vampire's head that whistled through the air.

The pale man caught the kick with ease, leaving them both frozen in an odd dance for a few seconds. Argentine's eyes twinkled in amusement. "Is that all you've got, demon? Come, don't disappoint me so." Red eyes narrowed in response, but in the next second Sebastian's mouth was stretching in a thin smirk. _As the saying goes, be careful what you wish for, soulless._

Supporting his weight _only_ with his grip on Argentine's arm and the other's grip on his own ankle, Sebastian managed to twist his body around entirely in mid-air to _slam_ the heel of his other foot into the side of the vampire's face. Argentine staggered sideways with a grunt; his hand tightened viciously around Sebastian's ankle a split second before Sebastian found himself flying through the air towards a bookshelf. A quick twist saved him, allowing the demon to land lightly on his feet, unharmed, in front of the bookshelf.

Rubbing his cheek with the back of his hand, Argentine's narrowed eyes glittered blue ice in anger. "It's been quite a long time since one of your kind injured me," he growled. "Although…" A smirk grew across his face, twisting the human features with arrogant humour and mockery. "If you intend on beating me with that kind of pitiful strength –"

His laughter was punctured with the sharp _crack!_ of several gunshots. Unnoticed by either vampire or demon, Von Barrett had regained balance and drawn a gun hidden inside his vest. Sebastian caught two of the bullets in his left hand with ease and merely tilted his head out of the way of the others. Human weapons could not kill him, but they were an annoying inconvenience he'd rather avoid. He darted to the side, bullets ricocheting off the shelves in his wake. _Decidedly inconvenient_.

Sebastian leapt into the air, somersaulting over Argentine's head and throwing the two bullets at the vampire he held once he was in his blind spot. Sadly, the vampire sensed the projectiles and rolled to the side, letting the two bullets puncture through the floor with incredible force instead of his skull. As Argentine rolled, he grabbed a few cracked plates on the way and sent them spinning, discus-style, at the demon.

Suppressing a derisive snort – did the vampire really think he'd be caught by that? – Sebastian casually caught the first plate and tossed it back directly into the path of the others, making them smash each other to pieces in mid-air as the demon landed behind Von Barrett. _Such a waste of good china_, Sebastian mused as the blond man spun around, calm demeanour dropping just a fraction to display a hint of fear in those cool blue eyes. Von Barrett swung his gun up, finger tightening on the trigger. Unfortunately for him, Sebastian moved faster, snapping the gun in half and knocking the scrap metal away with one hand as his other snaked out to latch around the man's neck.

Sound gurgled in Von Barrett's throat; his pulse fluttered wildly under Sebastian's gloved fingers. The blonde scrabbled at Sebastian's grip in a futile attempt to free himself. Sebastian allowed a smile of sadistic pleasure to cross his face as he tightened his grip, a hair's breadth from snapping Von Barrett's neck with that beautiful melody of cracking bone –

A snarl drew his attention just in time to see Argentine leap at him; with both his hands full, the vampire's claws finally hit their mark, one hand raking across Sebastian's back and the other digging into his upper left arm. Sebastian felt Argentine's breath against his neck, the vampire using his momentum as he crashed into the demon at full force to try and bite him. Fangs brushed across the tender skin of his neck; red eyes widening in alarm, Sebastian was forced to drop Von Barrett in order to grab Argentine's face to stop him from biting down.

He thought he heard Argentine mutter, "Heh," and belatedly remembered the vampire's dangerous aura. That lead weight was beginning to drop across his body; that bone deep tiredness that he _must_ avoid at all costs. He needed to break free quickly, before the vampire managed to subdue him completely like last time; but his mind was growing so tired, so weary that he wanted to lay down and rest… Glazing carmine eyes fell on the fire only a hand span or two away.

Argentine screamed in pain as burning hot coals were thrown in his face, an inhuman shriek that hurt Sebastian's ears as the scent of burning flesh filled his nostrils. The vampire released him completely and staggered backwards, both hands covering his face as he groaned in agony. Sebastian smirked and yanked the remnants of his glove from his hand, inwardly panting at what had been such a close call. The burn marks upon his palm where he had grabbed the coals were already healing; the contract mark on the back of his hand blazed with renewed glory, outshining even the glow of the fire. _I hope the Young Master is faring better than this_, Sebastian mused. _With the way he is now, will the Young Master even call for me if he gets into trouble?_

_Will he even trust me enough to protect him?_

It was hard to say. The Young Master could be extremely tenacious when he chose to be; even with the renewal of their bond, the connection was still too raw to help him decipher what Ciel might be thinking. _Not to mention that he is extremely determined to prove that he does not need me… If that is the case, I do not understand why he even renewed the contract in the first place._

_Humans._ Something told Sebastian he would never fully understand the way they thought. Not that he really wanted to, in any case. He had better things to do with his time.

Some of the coals he had swept out of the fireplace had found new fuel, following the plush carpet across the floor to gobble up fallen books and broken wood with equal glee and leaping up to the bookshelves beside the fireplace. Sebastian had little time to reflect on how this might change the battlefield he found himself on before someone grabbed him from behind.

He'd forgotten about Von Barrett. _I _am_ getting sloppy, to miss that._ The blond man's arm encircled Sebastian's neck and yanked backwards, catching the demon in a headlock. For a mere human, the man had incredible strength – or was it just tenacity? Not even the sharp claws of his ungloved hand could make the man loosen his grip, though they raked deep gouges through his skin that made blood splash across the pale skin and cling to Sebastian's hair. Sebastian bared his teeth in a snarl as he hooked another unlikely weapon from the fireplace with his foot. The fire poker spun through the air and the demon caught it with ease, twirling it around in his free hand. Sebastian drove the end glowing bright orange straight through Von Barrett's chest, hearing bone crunch and flesh sizzle like some dark chorus.

Von Barrett's arms dropped away completely as the man staggered back a few paces, sapphire eyes wide in pain and shock. He gripped the poker with both hands which slowly became stained with his own crimson lifeblood, the iron rod driven clean through his body and out the other side. The pale man stared at Sebastian in disbelief.

"Vincent!" Argentine called, shock evident in his voice. The blonde blinked once, twice, tried to speak: a gurgle of blood that splashed down over his chin. Then, without warning, the tall man's knees buckled and he collapsed to the ground, the life in him vanishing into thin air.

Pale blue flashed at Sebastian from a ruined face, one eye turned a milky white from the blazing coals. Sebastian smirked, licking the blood off his fingers casually. "Don't worry, vampire, your death will be much more … enjoyably messy than that, have no fear." The demon's red eyes gleamed with sadistic pleasure at the torture he'd inflict. "After all, now it's just you left."

Argentine barked a laugh, a harsh laugh that left his shoulders shaking as he met Sebastian's gaze squarely. His voice was gravelly, most likely from the horrific burns that were spread down the front of his neck, charcoal black and seared red a bright contrast to ivory white skin. "I wouldn't be so sure about that, demon."

The quiet sound of a boot scraping against carpet made Sebastian turn with a frown. Shock flashed through him at the sight of Von Barrett getting to his feet slowly, fire poker still jutting from his chest. With a grunt, the blonde yanked the length of iron out of his body, leaving a sizable hole behind. Von Barrett spat the blood out of his mouth and wiped his chin, hefting the bloody poker with crimson-stained hands and smiling a wintery smile at the wide-eyed demon as he spoke.

"Surprise."

_oOoOoOoOoOo_

When the first rumble of thunder came, it was barely distinguishable from the rattling of his cart over the uneven ground and so the Undertaker took no notice of it, continuing to hum quietly to himself. It wasn't until the sky growled again that the silver-haired man finally looked up, the song trailing away absently on his lips as he studied the dark clouds spreading across the sky and dyeing it an angry purple.

"Hm~" The Undertaker's mouth twisted downwards in dissatisfaction. "That's not good." He glanced over his shoulder at the simple coffin lying in the back of his cart. "It would be a shame if it rained before you were buried and ruined all of my work." Not to mention that trying to dig a grave through mud was all but a nigh impossible task, even for an experienced person like himself. The coffin, as can be expected, made no reply to his comment and so the Undertaker turned his attention back to the road. His two horses, a spotted grey and a black, knew the path to the graveyard so well by now that they didn't really require constant guiding. However, with the prospect of coming rain, the long nailed hands flipped the reins and he clucked his tongue; both horses picked up their pace to a fast trot. _They _didn't particularly care to be caught out in the rain either.

As his cart trundled down the path to the graveyard, the Undertaker couldn't help studying the clouds again. He didn't mind stormy weather – especially not when storms like these brought more guests to him to be made pretty for their final journey – but he couldn't help thinking that something about _this_ storm seemed … ominous. The black-clad man found himself wondering how many guests he'd be welcoming into his shop the next day.

His current travelling partner had been fairly easy to fix up, which had been no fun at all. _No wounds to stitch up; no need for sweet smelling flowers or other things to fill the space of missing organs; nothing but a bit of makeup to give the face back its colour_, the Undertaker sighed. _How boring. Not even those puncture marks on the neck needed much work._

There had been more victims with that double puncture mark, a steady trickle of one or two a day. He'd expected them to stop appearing soon after the Earl had visited – his childish anger still brought a smile to the Undertaker's face when he thought about it – as they always did, but much to his surprise it had been over a fortnight since then and the bodies were piling up – quite literally, in fact.

_It appears the Earl is encountering trouble this time around with this particular case of his,_ the Undertaker mused as he reached for a jar wedged into the cart behind him between his seat and the coffin. Long fingers dipped inside to retrieve a bone-shaped biscuit, one of his specialties, and he munched on it thoughtfully. _Those two puncture marks remind me of… I wonder if I should have told the young Earl about _that_… Oh well._ He shrugged, biscuit dangling from his mouth as he took hold of the reins again. "Perhaps it can be a little test for the Earl, yes?" he said aloud to no-one in particular with a small chuckle.

Sparing another glance for the clouds racing towards the city, the Undertaker took another biscuit and flipped the reins again. The beginning strains of another hum floated back along the deserted road behind the cart as it trundled onwards, bearing yet another fleeting guest to where the earth waited to finally welcome them home in a last embrace.

_oOoOoOoOoOo_

Footsteps pounded against the carpeted hallways ahead of him at a steady pace, letting Ciel know that he was still hot on Randall's heels even if the red-haired noble was no longer in sight. The baron had the advantage in this chase: he was fitter, faster and knew the layout of the Von Barrett mansion much, much better than Ciel did. Not to mention that the ash-haired boy had never been in top physical condition even _before_ he had been ill-treated and confined to a dirty cell beneath said mansion for the past fortnight.

In fact, Ciel shouldn't have been able to run at all. He'd barely eaten for the past two weeks – how could he when the one bringing his meals only reminded him of what he'd lost? – and cuts and bruises from the rough stone and harsh metal chains marked nearly every inch of visible flesh that was not already covered in grime. It was a miracle that his muscles, having grown unused to such strenuous movement, had not yet begun to express their displeasure in the form of incredibly painful cramps that left him screaming on the floor.

Only two things were enabling Ciel to ignore his utter exhaustion and the pain that every action brought him. The first was his determination to prevent Ashford and Von Barrett's plot from succeeding. He _had_ to stop Randall from destroying any evidence that could be used against the conspirators or anything that could help flush out their accomplices. Even if Ashford and Von Barrett were eliminated from the playing field, the threat they posed would not be destroyed with them while others still schemed. Moreover, the Von Barretts were of the old nobility, of much too high a title to accuse one of them with treason without proof or to kill one without an outcry from the other nobles. Although Ashford was only a barony, they supplied the army with weapons and this gave them the same 'protective veil' that Von Barrett hid behind.

_A very, very thin veil._

It wasn't just his duty as the Queen's guard dog that drove him at this moment, though. No, Ashford and Von Barrett_ would_ pay, _must_ pay for the humiliation they had put him through, the suffering he had felt, thebetrayal of respect for the Phantomhive name. _His_ name._ I will destroy them for what they've done._ The thought was cold and dark and whispered like steel across silk in the depths of his mind.

All of this flashed through Ciel's mind with the speed of a lightning bolt as he skidded around a corner, stumbling and almost crashing into a beautiful painting of birds soaring in the wind. He caught himself at the last possible second so that he merely bumped into it gently, but even that set his bruised shoulder clamouring in pain. His right eye, his lost eye that Sebastian had somehow recreated for him – _how?_ – throbbed briefly as he pushed himself away from the wall and charged down the hallway after Randall once more. Strangely, despite its throbbing, his eye was the one part of his body that _didn't_ hurt. Instead it … fizzed … with each pulsation and never quite stopped.

Ciel gasped as the biting agony in his leg suddenly blazed into life and he almost stumbled again. _Can't stop. If I stop, it'll get worse and I won't be able to move – _Why was he pushing himself like this? The king did not step into battle; he sent out his pawns first. And his pawn was –

_That_ was the second thing that occupied his mind; it was still reeling at how suddenly the situation had turned about. Sebastian had come back, had offered Ciel their contract once more; the demon had given Ciel back his eye as easily as he had healed one of the ash-haired boy's other wounds.

He had _apologised_ and it had sounded sincere.

_Why?_ Ciel's mind chanted in time with his footsteps. Why had the demon come back in the first place? _Why-why-why-why-why?_

"_I understand the situation better now,_" the demon had said. "_I will not betray our contract again. You are the one I wish to serve._"

Fine words, they were. But demons were masters of words, twisting them to their needs and building nets with them to ensnare the lives and souls of those who listened. Demons lied as easily as they breathed, no matter what Sebastian said to the contrary. He had ordered Sebastian once, childishly, to never lie to him, but did that still hold? He had betrayed Ciel as easily as did anything else, despite orders to the contrary. But then, Sebastian seemed to be flouting a lot of orders lately. _How is the contract remaining intact when he keeps switching between Ashford and myself? _Could this all just be a plot? A cunning trap set by the demon for his own needs? _Then why did he offer me the contract again? Why did his apology have the ring of sincerity to it? Why link us together again if he only plans on betraying me a second time?_

Oh yes. Demons were masters of fine words.

The seal pulsed again, sending that tingling feeling through his mind once again as Ciel closed his eye to mask the purple radiance that gleamed from the renewed mark. _Enough. I cannot do my job properly if I must worry about that damn demon every step of the way. There is nothing I can do at the moment beyond leaving him to deal with Von Barrett and Argentine and take the power he has placed in my hands once again. Sebastian is _my_ pawn; I am _not_ his. If he is trying to toy with me again, I will not break down the way I did before. I will _not_ let myself be betrayed again!_

He cursed something highly inappropriate for a gentleman of his age and status when he saw the empty hallway ahead. While he'd been deep in thought – _doubt_ – the baron had disappeared. Ciel cast around wildly, purple and sapphire examining every inch of the room around him for a sign that someone had passed by.

A flash of tan disappearing around the edge of a stairwell that twisted back on itself caught his eye. _There!_ Ciel dashed after it, his breath beginning to come in gasps. He was reaching his (greatly reduced) physical limits already, strength fading into pain and that odd fizzing sensation in his right eye. Even so, he gritted his teeth and took the steps two at a time, determined to catch up to the red-head though he obviously had no way to overpower the other man. Normally this was where he would have called upon Sebastian; the demon _was_ a weapon whose power was to be directed at Ciel's whim, after all. However, he was uneasy about letting Sebastian near someone who had usurped his power once and something else inside Ciel balked at the thought of calling upon the demon. _I do not need to rely on Sebastian's power; I have to prove that there are things I can do on my own. I cannot allow myself to become dependant upon him once again. _Just look where that had gotten him last time!

The boot came out of nowhere, slamming into Ciel's chest with enough force to knock the boy completely off his feet and send him tumbling backwards. He hit the wall hard, knocking the breath from his lungs and making ever bruise on his back scream in pain. At the top of the stairway stood Randall, who had waited for just that very chance. He lowered his foot and flashed a smirk at the younger boy as the teen staggered to his feet, clutching his side. The red-head gave a mocking two fingered salute and darted out of Ciel's sight.

Ciel growled – _how dare he make fun of me!_ – and pulled himself up the stairs with the aid of the handrail, his other hand wrapped around his stomach. The pain was beginning to build up again, multiplied a hundredfold by his recent tumble, making it hard to think clearly or even move. Was the energy Sebastian had given him along with the regeneration of his eye merely running out or was the demon withdrawing it on purpose to let Ashford get the upper hand? He was tired of this double game, tired of running and thinking and doubting and worrying. The demon would only do to perfection what his master asked, nothing more and nothing less. If Ciel wanted something –

"_I told you the way to __make me do something, didn't I?"_

– he had to ask.

_Damn you to hell, demon. _He could almost _feel_ Sebastian smirk.

_Sebastian! _he called silently. _I order you to give me the strength I need to see this through!_

He didn't know if Sebastian could even hear a silent order, let alone whether or not he would obey one. Pain lanced into the ash-haired boy as silence stretched in long seconds, the agony like long grasping fingers that touched his core, his soul as every inch of his tired and exhausted body began to give up the fight. Ciel felt his legs give out with only two steps left to go and he fell forward, unable to stop himself and too tired to even care. It was useless to fight anymore. How could he stop Ashford if not even his own body would listen to him?

_The fight is not yet over, Young Master_.

Sebastian's voice whispered into his ear, echoing so close and yet so distantly that it made Ciel shiver. At the same moment, the pentacle in the Earl's eye blazed like the noon-day sun, sending that fizzing energy flooding thorough the young noble's veins. His sapphire eye snapped open at the surge of power moving through him and his hand shot out instinctively to grab the railing so that his nose halted a bare inch from the floor. Dragging himself upright, Ciel looked around wildly. Surely the demon must be beside him; he had _heard_ that unmistakeable voice that had irritated and soothed him by turns in the past.

Sebastian was nowhere in sight.

Ciel stared down at his hands. Had he imagined it? Purple light played over his pale skin as it reflected the gleam of the shining contract seal. He … hurt, still, but it wasn't from exhaustion or cramps or inflicted wounds anymore. The raw energy that now boiled in his blood was unlike any he'd felt before. Was _this_ the power that dwelt within Sebastian? It was so unfamiliar, so _alien_ and not of this world that he was almost glad when it faded into a banked ember inside of him rather than the raging wildfire that had flooded his senses earlier. _Even if this is demonic energy and not good for humans, I will make use of any tool I am given that enables me to complete my task. No matter what happens to me._

He clenched his hand around that reflected lavender light and glanced down the corridor. Had Ashford gone that way? Ciel frowned; his vision had been so hazy at that time that he couldn't remember no matter how hard he tried. The sharp tinkling of breaking glass to his right decided him; he darted to the right, his need to find the baron and that strange energy within him wiping away any fatigue he felt.

The door was still partially open, making the ash-haired boy smirk quietly in the back of his mind. _Fool, didn't even bother to bar the door…!_ He flung the door wide open… only to be greeted by an empty room. Ciel blinked in surprise – _but I clearly heard someone in here! – _just as the curtain on the other side of the room billowed outwards as a sudden draft caught hold of it. Papers stacked on the mahogany desk in front of the window took flight, like white butterflies caught in a whirlwind that left them scattered haphazardly around the room on the ground. Ciel ventured further into the room, mouth pursed. _This looks like a study of some kind … _

Glass crunched under his foot, drawing the teen's attention instantly. _It appears this is the source of what I heard earlier… no doubt the curtains knocked whatever it is off the desk when the breeze caught them._ Ciel picked up the small wooden board that lay at the centre of the shards, flipping it over in his hands. _A photograph?_

The shattered glass plate distorted the image slightly but Ciel could still make out the four figures it had captured on film for eternity. The one in the centre was unmistakably Randall, about eighteen years of age and dressed in an army uniform with sword at hip and the Ashford crest upon his coat. The one on the left had to be the late Lord Ashford; Ciel remembered seeing a photo or two of him. However, Ciel had never seen the two people, a man and a woman, on Randall's right before. _His fiancée?_ Ciel wondered, noting the way the red-head's arm lingered around her shoulders. _No; she looks too old for that. In fact, judging by their clothes, those aren't nobles, they're – _The blue eyes narrowed as Ciel peered at the photograph more closely, taking it out of the broken frame. _That woman's features – _

_You mustn't dilly-dally, Young Master. Time is precious._

Ciel jumped slightly. "Sebas…"

He trailed off when he realised that he still stood alone in the middle of the room. Thunder rumbled ominously outside, heralding the approaching storm as wide eyes surveyed the room. _He's… not here…? But I heard him so clearly!_

A growl rivalling the thunder outside escaped him. _Dammit, Sebastian! Stop messing with me and stay out of my head!!_

In the depths of his mind there was a faint chuckle, rich with amusement that faded away slowly. Ciel gritted his teeth. _Deal with him later. My problem at the moment is Ashford. If he's not here, where did he go?_

He closed his eyes, feeling nothing but the caress of the breeze and the quiet pulsing of the seal in his eye. The edge of the photograph was a sharp thorn against his finger as it tapped it, deep in thought. What had Sebastian said? That Ashford would head for either Von Barrett's or his own study, or the 'map room'. _Well, _Ciel thought, frowning slightly in concentration, _I can probably assume that this is Ashford's study then, with this photograph here… Von Barrett's study is on the floor below this, since that's where Argentine said he found me. So that leaves only the map room for him to be hiding in._

'_On the second floor of this building, three doors up from the end of the south corridor is a room called the map room. I believe there you shall find evidence of their treason. Find the room, find the evidence, and run.'_

"South…" Ciel muttered. A quick glance out the window helped the teen get his bearings and told him he should have gone left at the top of the stairs.

How long had it been since Ashford had disappeared? Time was moving strangely in Ciel's mind; one minute fast, the next minute crawling by as he charged up the hallway. _Hopefully not enough time to have destroyed vital information_; that was Ciel's main fear. _Third door… third… Aha!_

The door was closed this time around. Although the handle twisted when he tested it, the wooden door refused to budge even an inch. Ciel cursed again – apparently, Ashford had more brains than he had given him credit for – and threw his weight into the door.

Nothing.

He tried again, ignoring the bruises on his side that protested such harsh treatment. The door took every blow stoically, remaining steadfast and immovable. Inside, he could hear the loud crackling of flames and frantic footsteps of Ashford as he darted around the room.

Ciel slammed his fist against the door, growling in frustration. _Is this the limit to what I can do?_

Should he call upon Sebastian? This was where the demon would normally come into things; there was no door that could stand in his way.

_But to call upon him _now_…_

'_Just what good are you without the demon, brat? You amount to nothing.'_

Argentine's words sneered at him from his memory. _I cannot… I will not depend on him. I will prove to him that I can stand on my own!_ Ciel growled to himself. _I… dare not depend on him ever again. He abandoned me once. Nothing will stop him from doing it again. If there was ever trust between us… _Ciel shook his head. _I can no longer trust him at all._

_And yet, you trusted him enough to reform the contract without problems,_ part of his mind countered. _You trust him to take care of Argentine and Von Barrett._

_That's different! _Ciel snapped back silently. _He left me with no choice!_

_He gave you a choice to accept it or not and you chose to take it,_ his mind argued. _If you are so sure you can stand on your own, that you do not need him, then he could not have cornered you and forced your hand._

_I… _Why did he have to make sense? Ciel did not _want_ to believe those words. He wanted to dismiss them, ignore them… He _wanted_ a reason to be angry, to hate the demon, to shield himself from ever being hurt like that again.

However, he could not deny what he had realised down in the darkness of his cell. He had accepted the contract because he needed the demon. There were things beyond what he could do with his own power for which he needed Sebastian's abilities and strength. Even if that role was just to support Ciel, give him the strength to stand 'alone' and to move forward on his own.

_Sebastian gave me the strength to see this venture through_, Ciel thought as he stepped away from the door. A purple star blazed. _But it is my choice on how I wish to use that strength; it was never a question of dependence and power._

He rushed the door, crashing through it as the chair propped under the handle finally gave up the fight and shattered into pieces. The door slammed against the wall and rebounded, meeting Ciel's outstretched hand with a firm _thump_. "Ashford!"

Across the room, Randall whirled around, turning away from the fire roaring in the large fireplace with a sheaf of papers still clutched in his hands. The crackling flames made his hair seem to glow. A flash of panic was followed closely a scowl on the red-haired noble's face before his features smoothed out and adopted a smirk. "Well, well, if it isn't the Phantomhive brat. Didn't your mother ever teach you to knock first?" Without breaking eye contact, Randall casually tossed the papers he held into the fire, which roared contentedly and began to devour the new meal. Ciel's brows lowered in frustration – _What was on those papers?_ – and Randall's smirk grew wider. "Come to stop me, have you?"

"That's right," Ciel replied calmly, though inside he seethed with rage and frustration. The man had stolen his eye, his butler, his dignity and still he stood there, cocky and self-assured as he burned the evidence Ciel needed. The teen advanced, unsure how exactly to proceed but absolutely determined to win this game no matter how the cards fell.

"Is that so?" Randall stepped sideways as he spoke. In one lightning-fast motion, the other noble had reached up behind him to snatch one of the decorative sabres displayed upon a wall rack and brought it to point at Ciel. Ciel could tell by the way Randall held the blade that it was no mere decoration; it was a proper blade and by the looks of it, deadly sharp. A cold smile twisted the corners of the red-head's mouth as he levelled the blade. "Now, are you so sure of that?"

"Tch!" Ciel moved back instinctively, eyes narrowing. As long as he remained unarmed there was no way he could stand a chance against Ashford. _Although even if I get my hands on a weapon, I know nothing of Ashford's sword ability… No time to worry about that; first I need to even the odds…_ Blue and purple flickered around the room, searching for something, anything that he could use, but it was in vain. The only other swords were on the opposite side of the room; he'd have to go through Ashford to get them. _Damn._

A chuckle drew Ciel's attention. He glared at Randall as the red-head raised an eyebrow at him. "Why, brat, what happened to your bravado? Come on, I'm waiting."

"Attacking an unarmed opponent?" Ciel countered, standing his ground. If he'd figured Ashford's personality out correctly… "That gives me a good measure of _your_ bravery, Ashford."

The instant scowl that darkened the red-head's face made Ciel smirk. _Got you._ He continued on, scorn tinging his words. "A _true_ gentleman would let me get a sword to let it be a fair fight."

Randall's knuckles went white as his hand tightened on the hilt of his sabre. His lip drew back over his teeth in a silent snarl, and for a moment it looked as though he would strike Ciel down where he stood, consequence be damned. Then the rage was swallowed, replaced by a cold smirk once more like donning a mask.

"You think you know how to fence, brat?" he asked derisively, taking another sword from the wall and tossing it towards the grey-haired teen. It clattered across the tiles to come to a stop at Ciel's feet. "Go on," Randall taunted. "Pick it up – if you can."

Eyeing the other noble – there was no telling if he'd try to attack now while Ciel's guard was down – Ciel bent down and grasped the hilt below the hand guard. His sword was identical to the one Randall held, down to its beautifully crafted blade and the silver wire wrapping around to form the hand guard. They both seemed to be kept in good working order, with not a single spot of rust or signs of disrepair. It was also a much heavier blade than Ciel was used to practising with when he had fencing lessons with Sebastian. _That could be a problem later on…_

As he straightened with sabre in hand, Randall saluted him with his sword mockingly and adopted a stance with his sword his held before his chest, putting Ciel on point. Ciel followed suit, adopting almost an identical pose. They stood there for a moment like mirror images, the only sound in a suddenly quiet room the loud popping and crackling of the fire as it waited to be fed again.

"I've seen what the nobility call 'fencing'," Randall spoke into the quiet, eyes never wavering as they watched Ciel's every move. "A mere child's game for those who don't have the stomach for _war._" A gleam shone in the green eyes and in the next instant Randall's sword thrust forward with the speed of a striking snake. Ciel barely avoided being skewered as he dodged to the side, bringing the blade up to parry another blow. He stumbled back, unprepared for the force that Randall had put behind his attack. Randall took a step back as well, returning his blade to the en garde position. They circled slowly, waiting for another opening. Ciel stamped his foot; Randall responded to his feint by coming forward, blade extended. The metallic ring as the blades met was harsh, discordant note after note of an out of tune musician as the swords clashed and danced, flowing from one form to another. Randall feinted to Ciel's right and scored a blow to the teen's arm, drawing the first blood as the steel tip sliced through cloth and skin indiscriminately.

The sapphire-eyed boy let out an involuntary gasp and fell back to a safer distance. Randall shook the blood off his blade with a neat flick of the wrist and examined the blade. "Well, boy, do you understand what I meant now? This isn't your flimsy fencing sword; these are the sabres of the English light cavalry, a real man's weapon – not some little toy that a brat like you can pretend to wield." The smile he flashed at Ciel did not reach his eyes. "I look after these swords myself; in fact, I'm the one who gave these to Vinny in the first place."

"I didn't come here to listen to you chatter," Ciel said in a bored tone. "Are you tired? Do you want a respite?"

Randall blinked at him, confusion at the sudden change evident in the green and purple gaze. Then he laughed, a short display of mirth that ended with a raised eyebrow at his opponent. "Tired? I'm barely warmed up. Now _you_, boy… Any time you want to surrender, go right ahead."

Ciel snorted, letting Ashford know exactly what he thought of _that_ particular idea. Outwardly his face was calm, mismatched eyes determined, but inside was a different story. It was said that a decent swordsman can gain a measure of their opponent within the first few exchanges. Well, he certainly had Randall's measure now and he was equally certain that the older man was still merely toying with him. Not that Ciel had revealed his full hand yet, but judging on what had transpired so far, he was worried.

_He's taller, stronger and in better condition than I am at the moment, Sebastian's strength or not,_ the younger noble calculated. _He's also been trained in this type of fencing a lot longer than I have… _It was not at all like when Sohma had challenged him to a match; defeating the Indian prince would have been easy had it not been for Agni. However, Ciel got the impression this time that the difference in skill level between and Ashford was almost as wide as the one between Sohma and himself. _Not to mention that his reach is a lot longer than mine_. Blue and purple studied the older man intently, noting the unruffled and composed stance of his opponent. The cut on his left arm still stung, a bloody flower blossoming upon the rags of his once fine shirt and coat. _This could be more trouble than I first imagined…_

His thoughts were cut short as Randall stepped up the pace, letting loose a barrage of cuts and thrusts that Ciel could only half-parry. The sword's unfamiliar weight dragged at his hands and jarred against his palm every time it met Randall's blade. Soon there were more cuts and slashes dotted across his skin, making a blood soaked pattern against his clothes.

Ciel understood his opponent's strategy almost straight away. _He's bleeding me, trying to make me faint. That means his goal is to capture, not kill me… Why? He ordered Sebastian to kill me before, so what is he planning now?_ A quick step to the side saved him from a thrust and he counter-attacked automatically, actually managing to drive Randall back a pace or so. Sweat was beginning to bead on his forehead, running tracks through the grime on his face and neck and making fresh cuts sting.

Randall eased up on the attack, letting the boy have a few moments of rest. The kid looked in bad shape; it was amazing he had managed to stay on his feet this long. The dirty, bloodstained rags made him look nothing like the well-dressed noble that had walked through the church doors on that rainy day. The pride was still there though, oh yes, mixed with hate and determination and hints of a dozen other emotions – _could that have been fear?_ – shining through the purple seal blazing in his right eye. Randall stopped his hand before it could touch his own eye emblazoned with that mark of Death. He wondered if the Phantomhive boy had ever gotten used to seeing it in his reflection. Randall certainly hadn't; he felt sick every time he saw it in the mirror, hating that glowing mark, that purple luminescence that whispered the promise of eternal torment to come.

What would happen now? The demon now had his mark on two humans, two people claiming by rights what only one could have. _The boy's soul was supposed to substitute for mine in the contract; that's the only reason we kept him alive after Sebastian chose our side. _The red-head's eyes narrowed as he studied the younger boy, flipping his ponytail over his shoulder. _There's still a chance we can use him as originally planned, so I should try to capture him for the time being._ He frowned as the outlines of the world around him grew slightly blurry. _Plus, there's the chance that if he dies, the demon might just disappear. Capture it is, then. Should be fairly easy; I'm just toying with him at the moment anyway._

The vision in his right eye blurred completely, rendering his surroundings on that side to vague blobs of colour for a few seconds. He rubbed his eye with the back of his hand and it returned to normal. _What the heck was that? It can't be fatigue already…_

That small, instinctive action did not go unnoticed by Ciel, but Randall had positioned his blade in such a way that such a momentary distraction could not be taken advantage of. He bit his lip in thought, peering through a fringe that was mattered with sweat. The pulsing in his right eye beat in time with his heartbeat, a thunderous sound only rivalled by the deep gasps his lungs were demanding. What _was_ it that Sebastian always told him?

'_Fencing is both a mental and physical sport, Young Master.' A small smile, unconvincingly hidden by a hand. 'Although you have the mental part quite well covered, I dare say you need to work on the physical side of things more.'_

_Ashford has the physical advantage, but if I can get a psychological edge on him… _Ciel pondered the idea. The red-head seemed much more excitable than either of his co-conspirators. If Ciel could get a rise out of him like he had before, then the break in concentration might just give him the time to…

Tired of waiting, his opponent's sabre lashed forward, tangling with Ciel's as the teen hastily parried and counter-struck. "You'd do better to call your demon, brat. You're looking tired."

Ciel smirked, acting less exhausted than he felt. The energy that Sebastian had given him only went so far; it could not shield his master from the weariness that had been building up for so long. _Just a little bit longer! That's an order, Sebastian, whether you hear me or not!_ "He's busy taking care of the other traitors."

"… Hmph." Randall dodged a weary thrust with ease. "Don't take Vinny or that freak of nature lightly, kiddo. They won't die as easily as you'd expect." He cursed and rubbed at his eye again. For a split second his blade lowered and Ciel took his chances, coming in on Randall's blind side. Only the red-head's cat-like reflexes saved him from a worse injury as Ciel's blade finally drew blood, slicing across Randall's hand. The red-haired man cursed and drew back.

"I don't need Sebastian to take you on; I can manage it myself," Ciel informed the older noble, mouth twisting up at the corner in a small smile. Randall snorted, switching his sabre to his other hand as he shook the blood off his other.

"I've taken worse. If this scratch is the best you can do, I'm not worried," the red-head retorted, swinging the tip of the blade back up to aim at Ciel. "En garde."

"There's one thing I've been meaning to ask," the ash-haired boy said as they circled slowly again. "Why do all of this in the first place? The Von Barretts already hold a lot of power as part of the old nobility, and Ashford has always supported the throne. Why?"

"Why do you care?" Randall retorted. "Phantomhive is already the Queen's pet dog. What do you hope to gain by stopping us?"

"Personally, I didn't care, until you dragged me into it more than I wished. But dealing with vermin like you and Von Barrett has always been the job left to my family and I don't intend to abandon that duty, unlike you."

"Huh. Fancy words for a brat. You wouldn't understand, but our plan is for the sake of England."

Ciel laughed. "Don't you mean it's for the sake of power?"

Randall smirked in reply, feinting to Ciel's left. Ciel was ready, sidestepping the lower cut to his right as the red-head followed through. "Maybe. Isn't that true about everyone, though? Look at yourself! Why do _you_ follow her? Even you could probably muster up enough to overthrow her."

"I'll do my duty." _I decided that when I escaped that hell._

His opponent shrugged slightly. "Someone would say that it's my duty to help my country. The throne is a frail thing and your Queen is weak, brat, especially if she's relying on a mere boy to be her guardian."

"Oh?" A thin grey eyebrow was raised; the cool voice contrasted completely with his bedraggled image. "And just how do you intend to be 'stronger'?" A flash of brilliance came to him. "How do you even know that Von Barrett won't betray you later, anyway? He _does_ have a vampire as his partner; you have no-one but yourself." _A decidedly lacking position_, his tone implied.

Randall shuddered slightly at the mention of Argentine, an almost involuntary action that he covered with a shrug. "Vinny has no reason to do that."

"Only one of you can be King," Ciel pointed out.

"Vinny doesn't want to be King; he'd rather be Prime Minister and have control of the House of Lords."

Ciel blinked. _Prime Minister…It's true that both the House of Lords and the House of Commons mainly decide on what should be presented to the Sovereign, but…_ "So the throne…"

"Is mine, yes," Randall finished.

The absurdity of it would have made Ciel laugh had his body not been aching so much. "You do realise that he'll effectively have more power than you in that position?"

"I don't care. Vinny's smarter and knows how to manipulate people; this was his plan in the first place. I'm better when it comes to the army and social occasions." Randall took a step forward. Ciel backed up, sword extended as he thought this recent information over.

_So in effect, Von Barrett works as a shadow King while Ashford remains on show… but where does Argentine come into this? Why do they need him at all? … For that matter…_ "Where does _Sebastian_ come into this?" he wondered aloud, puzzled. There seemed to be no point –

"Ah, now that's a secret," Randall smirked. "Do you intend to talk all day? I really have other things to be doing, like –" Before Ciel could react, Randall had threaded the blade of his sword through the handle of a basket nearby that held documents and flicked it into the fireplace, making the fire flare up for a brief moment. "– that."

Ciel gritted his teeth. _What is taking Sebastian so long with Von Barrett and Argentine? I dare not call him at all until I know they've been dealt with._ "Actually, speaking of secrets… You seem to be hiding one yourself?"

"Hm?"

"It's been troubling me ever since I first saw you. You bear absolutely no resemblance to the late Baron Ashford, besides which, his wife and children – so I heard – _all_ died in an accident just before I was born."

"You have a problem with me because I don't look like the old man?" Randall asked, sounding both amused and surprised.

"No," Ciel replied. "I have a problem with you because before we met I'd never even heard of a 'Randall D. Ashford' even by the faintest hearsay."

"Oh?"

"Yes. I've spent the last few days trying to figure it out and now I think I've finally found the answer."

"Is that so? Please, enlighten me." Randall's grin was one of amused mockery. However, when Ciel produced what he'd found earlier the smile disappeared, pure shock followed closely by a frown. "And why should that have any significance?"

"I was wondering who these two commoners with you and the former Baron of Ashford were," Ciel replied. "But then I noticed… this woman, you resemble her greatly; so greatly, in fact, that I think that she's your real mother. You aren't noble by blood at all, are you? In fact, I wonder if you're even of the nobility at all… It's a crime for a commoner to pretend to be of the nobility, you know."

"_I am not pretending!_" Randall snapped, face turning red. _Interesting_, Ciel thought. _It appears I've found a sore point…_ "I am no fake, so don't you dare look down on me, _brat!_" The calm façade was gone; the red-head's teeth were bared. "Perhaps I was not born into nobility like you or Vinny, but I _am _a noble by virtue of adoption."

"Lord Ashford… adopted you as his son?" _Wouldn't something like that, the adoption of a commoner as his heir, cause a big enough stir that I'd have heard of it…?_

Randall looked off to the side, anger fading as he pulled himself back under control. "When I was eighteen and a mere cavalry officer, Lord Ashford came to oversee how the weaponry his family business made was measuring up. There was… someone there who had suffered losses in their family due to the Ashford business and took it into their minds to try for revenge." He rubbed at a spot on his chest unconsciously, just above his heart. "I was there and I took the bullet instead. That was when I met Vinny; he patched me up afterwards. It was about a month later, when I recovered fully, that Lord Ashford showed up and offered to adopt me as his heir. He had no family; as a commoner, I'd already obtained the highest post I could. Unfortunately, the army likes to favour one's bloodline over one's skills. So I took him up on his offer; I'm grateful to the old man. Ashford's only a barony, so something like that would barely cause a scandal. The 'D' in my name, that's my former surname. I kept it to remind me to achieve all I could." His eyes flashed and the sabre whipped upwards to come within a hand span of Ciel's face. "So don't get in my way."

"You think people will accept a common-born on the throne?" Ciel asked scornfully. The sword quivered as Randall's hand tightened upon the hilt. "That the nobility will take orders from someone beneath them?" he baited the red-head further. _This guy loses his focus when he's angry, so I might be able to exploit that._ "A commoner pretending to be King –"

"_I am not –!!"_ _Calm down, Randall! Can't you see what he's doing?_ Randall's voice dropped back to a more normal volume, although he spoke through gritted teeth. "– just a pretender, brat. And I do what I do for the good of my country, no matter what you may think. It's about time that we wrapped up this little talk, don't you think?"

_It figures the brat would be good at twisting words; he has a demon to learn from_, the red-haired noble thought. _Well, two can play that game._ "I was going to be perfect, you know. That demon would obey me because I held the contract seal, but take your soul because it was still the one linked into that contract… Bet you're pleased now he's back with you, hm?"

"Well, I'd never allow my pawn to stay with a fake chess piece," Ciel smirked. "I imagine that's why he came back."

"You mean you don't _know_?" Randall asked in fake surprise, making Ciel frown. _Now what is he planning?_ "Your precious demon only went back to you because that _idiot_ Argentine bit him."

_Huh? _Blue eyes went wide._ Sebastian was bitten by –_

In his confusion, he didn't see the foot that slammed into his chest and knocked him down to the ground in a strange sense of déjà vu, but he saw felt it. His sabre clattered out of sore hands to be kicked away as Randall advanced. The very tip of his sword rested at Ciel's neck.

"I told you that you'd be better off calling your demon, kid." Randall smirked coldly.

"I win."

_oOoOoOoOoOo_

_Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap._

Thunder growled overhead like the angry challenge of one of the pet Bengal tigers his family owned. Outside, the trees adorning the Phantomhive townhouse's garden began to sway in the rising breeze, hinting at the strength of the tempest to come. Shadows stretched across the cobblestones of London's streets and swallowed its buildings one by one as purplish-grey clouds continued to eat up the sky and the sunlight.

_Taptaptaptaptaptaptap._

Agni looked up from the colourful flowers he was arranging in a vase as the prince sighed heavily. Sohma sat in a seat by the window, legs curled up beneath him and his chin propped up on one hand as he stared moodily through the window to the world outside. The Indian butler could see that Sohma was worried: it was written across a face that had never learnt to hide emotions; it was in the ever-increasing tempo of impatience that the royal teen's fingers drummed out against the window sill. Sohma had barely moved from his seat for the past week – from the moment when he had started to wonder about Ciel's extended absence. Agni had tried his best to distract him, but the Prince always ended up staring out the window by the end of the day.

The butler couldn't understand why Prince Sohma was still worried. Hadn't Mr Sebastian said only yesterday that nothing bad had happened? Watching Sohma's steadily darkening frown, the white-haired butler decided it was time to distract his master again before he made himself sick with concern.

"Prince Sohma, would you like a game of chess? You should get lots of practice for your match with Master Ciel when he returns." Agni smiled as he carried the flower vase over to a table beside Sohma. The dark-haired prince didn't appear to have heard him as he continued to frown at the outside world. "Prince Sohma?" his butler tried again.

"Don't you think it's strange, Agni?" Sohma asked, unusually serious.

"What do you mean?" Agni asked, grey-green eyes puzzled. The flower vase sat unforgotten in his hands.

"Ciel! He's been gone for such a long time and without even a word to me either! Friends don't do that, right?" Sohma's eyes were still fixed on the gate outside as it creaked in a sudden gust of wind. "The only reason he'd do something like that is if he's in trouble!" He spun around to face Agni. "What if he's broken his leg in some alley and he can't make it home, or something just as terrible? We have to go looking for him again!"

Agni tried to calm his master down. "I'm sure Master Ciel is fine, Prince Sohma. After all, Mr Sebastian is with him. He wouldn't let any harm come to Master Ciel."

"Yeah…" Sohma had to admit that the argument _did_ hold some weight.

"And Mr Sebastian said yesterday that Master Ciel is working undercover for an investigation at the moment, didn't he? Surely it would be too dangerous to send any form of message in those circumstances."

"I guess…" Sohma frowned. "But Sebastian was acting kind of weird, did you notice? What if –" Sohma's brown eyes widened in shock and he grabbed Agni's arms as he leapt up out of his seat. "Agni! What if he was being _forced_ to say that because Ciel's being held hostage and they threatened to cut off his finger or something if he told anyone?!"

"Prince –"

"He's too little to let something like that happen to him! We have to help him!" A determined light was burning in the Indian teen's eyes as he stared up at his butler, ignoring the flowers he was crushing as he leaned forward. "Right, Agni?"

Agni hadn't realised how many television dramas his master must have been watching until this moment. There was no way something like that could happen! He opened his mouth to protest – and paused. Mr Sebastian had seemed distracted, now that he thought about it. Not to mention the worry that had been gnawing on the man the last few times Agni had seen his friend.

And hadn't he told Mr Sebastian that he'd help with whatever was troubling him?

"…Yes." The word had barely left the butler's mouth before Sohma's eyes lit up.

"Alright! Come on, Agni!" the prince exclaimed, seizing Agni's arm and racing towards the door. "We have all of London to search!" The white-haired man barely had the time to hastily place the vase he still held down on the table before he was dragged away, leaving the ornament rocking side to side precariously in the suddenly empty room.

"Prince Sohma, didn't Mr Sebastian say it would be dangerous to Master Ciel if we investigated?" Agni called as he tried to keep up with Sohma's energetic speed.

Sohma glanced over his shoulder. "That guy only said it was dangerous to draw attention to the fact that Ciel was missing. So! We'll just have to investigate quietly!" He flashed a bright grin at his butler and leapt down the stairs. Knowing there would be no way to dampen his master's enthusiasm now he had worked himself up, Agni addressed a silent apology to Sebastian for disobeying his request and followed the teen.

Thunder rumbled again, underscoring the determination that filled Sohma. _Hang on, little Ciel! We'll save you!_ he thought, flinging the front door of the townhouse open and heading out into a city held hostage by a stormy sky.

_oOoOoOoOoOo_

END CHAPTER 5

_oOoOoOoOoOo_

* * *

**A/N:** *cue suspense music* _Dun-dun-duuuun~_

…. Eheheh ^^;; I really can't help but to end on cliff-hangers, can I?

It's strange, but even though the rest of this chapter had been written for months it took me ages to write the Ciel vs Randall scene… Somehow, writing Sebastian's fight scenes are easier xD; I did do research but I think I still fail at understanding fencing (hahaha). Somehow the Undertaker managed to pop up in this chapter too… He wasn't originally meant to, come to think of it… and as always, I seem unable to give Sohma a serious side to his personality (haha) Sorry, Sohma!

I ended up revamping the previous chapters a bit... Well, I say 'revamp' (no pun intended) but I really just mean 'fixed up all the typos I am prone to making' xD;

Ah, that reminds me. Chapter 6 is (almost) completely planned out and I've started on the first couple of pages of it, so it's definitely in the making. Unfortunately, I'm going to be entering another busy patch again so I don't know when I'll get the time or the inspiration to write … I'm hoping that this time around I'll have a bit more free time but I guess that's something we'll have to wait and see. Anyway, what I'm trying to say is to warn you all that the next chapter may also take a while to be uploaded – although I am determined to never have it as long as this last time!! In any case, I do update my profile page (usually monthly) with the status of my current stories, so please check there in the meantime! ^^b

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! \(^o^)/

_Their partnership revived once more, Ciel and Sebastian are both fighting what have become life-or-death battles against the three conspirators. Only for some of them, death doesn't seem to be an issue… What secrets are they hiding?_

_Find it all out in the next chapter (currently in-progress): _That Butler, Inferno_!_

Hope you all have a good day~! :D


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